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holybatgirlz · 6 months

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The Cluedo Incident of '19

Read on ao3 here.

Summary:

Or: That time Bridgerton Family Game Night left five of the spouses contemplating the idea of divorce.

Words: 12k+

Notes: Been worked on this since January and finally finished it 😮‍💨😮‍💨. All credit to @bridgertonbabe for this.

“Unit 1813, please respond.”

“Go ahead, dispatch.”

“We’ve got a potential stabbing, an active labor, a few cases of smoke inhalation, and what looks like appendicitis at a home fire in Mayfair. Firefighters have made sure the fires have been put out and we’ve got a few units on the scene as well, but they’re requesting additional back up. Family on sight is giving them problems.”

“What’s the address?”

As Harriet continued driving the ambulance, listening to dispatch relay the address of the emergency, she glanced towards her partner Pete, an older and more seasoned paramedic, let out a loud laugh. Chuckling to himself, Pete told dispatch they were on route and were only a few minutes out.

Noticing her confusion, Pete only chuckled more. “Don’t worry. I’ve been to this address before.”

“You’ve been there before?” Harriet asked, still concerned.

“It’s the Bridgerton family’s address. Had a few calls to their home in my career. They're a nice bunch,” Pete explained. “And given the situation, my guess is they had another game night.”

Now, Harriet was really confused. She vaguely recalled the last name.

“Game night?” she asked, clarifying.

“Every once in a while they have a family game night, which usually ends in some level of chaos. With injuries to match,” Pete continued. “Eight kids. All a bunch of high achievers and also incredibly competitive. Do not get into an argument with any of them. In fact, don’t talk to any of them when we get there. Two of them are solicitors, and another one used to be, and a fourth one is training to be. So, I’ll do the talking.”

As they pulled up at the scene, Harriet was taken aback by the amount of ambulances parked in front of a grand, white stucco home with pillars and a painted black metal fence in front, with a beautifully maintained garden of rose bushes outfront. Firefighters were coming in and out of the front door, which had soft trails of gray smoke escaping out from. They’re were two police cars parked in front as well, the lights of the cop cars along with the ambulances lit the home in blue hue. There was a noticeable crowd of people both watching from across the street as well as a small cluster by some of the ambulances, all of whom appeared to be arguing with one another.

“This was because of a game?” Harriet asked, stunned.

“Yep,” Pete told her as he turned off the engine and hopped out of the ambulance.

Making their way towards the home, and the crowd of arguing adults, they passed an elegantly dressed, yet soaking wet, woman sitting on the front steps of the home, unperturbed by the firefighters moving up and down the stairs next to her.

“Evening Mrs. Bridgerton,” Pete nodded. “How have you been?”

As he spoke, Mrs. Bridgerton held up a finger as she took a long swing from the wine bottle held in her hand, chugging a few gulps before pointing her thumb towards the other parked ambulances. A cigarette was burning between her pointer and middle finger. Harriet noticed that while she was soaked to the bone, she had no ash or soot on her. Let alone blood on her anywhere.

“There all over there,” Mrs. Bridgerton told them once she was finished drinking.

“Another game night?” he asked, knowingly.

Mrs. Bridgerton nodded sullenly, taking a drag of the cigarette before speaking. She didn’t even look up at them, just continued giving a thousand yard stare to the rose bushes in front of her.

“Unfortunately.”

Receiving all the information they needed (and were going to get) Pete hoisted the large medical kit higher over his shoulder and made his way towards the group of arguing adults.

“This happens every other year?” Harriet said slowly, still shocked as she looked around the scene.

“Roughly. We’ve been getting calls here because of the Bridgerton Game Nights since the late seventies. You should have seen the father and his siblings when they lived here,” Pete whistled as he recalled that time. “They flooded the entire downstairs one year and blew up a microwave another time. This lot just seems worse because there's more of them.”

As they got closer, Harriet was able to make out some of the arguing coming from the crowd. A group who all looked to be disheveled and soaking wet. Some even had blood on their clothes. Half the group was yelling at each other, while the others were silently observing. Looking, frankly, embarrassed and exasperated by what was happening in front of them.

“I cannot believe you would accuse my wife of faking contractions !”

“Benedict, please get in the ambulance.”

“Who has eyes on Hyacinth?!”

“ She stabbed my husband, Anthony !”

“Daphne, I’m fine. Now get in or we leave without you.”

“At least”– cough cough –“At least I didn’t start a fire !”

“Eloise, be quiet and let the paramedics help you!”

“Who's driving Mum to the hospital?!”

“Where the hell is Hyacinth ?!”

“Like I said,” Pete told her. “Let me do the talking.”

| Fourteen Hours Earlier |

BSSG Chat

Penelope: Good morning my fellow spouses. Are we ready for tonight? 🙂

Kate: Yes 😀😀😀

Simon: Not particularly, no.

Sophie: I guess.

Sophie: Ben and I may be late tonight. Our sitter canceled at the last minute, so Posy is going to watch Charlie after she gets off work.

Phillip: Eloise made it sound like a lot of fun so I’m excited to see how this goes.

Michael: Yeah, same here.

Simon: …

Penelope: Well, we’re excited to have you guys. ☺️☺️☺️☺️

Kate: You guys are going to get crushed 😈😈

The Sane-y Bunch

Penelope: Before anyone asks, yes I have the first aid kit.

Penelope: I got the biggest one I could find.

Penelope: Like almost professional grade.

Simon: Oh thank Christ.

Sophie: Is Violet really planning to stay for this? I thought she was going on a spa retreat with Agatha?

Simon: Canceled. Apparently the place flooded due to a burst pipe, so they had to close. Agatha’s trying to reschedule them somewhere else but at this point all they can get is a post-game night retreat next weekend.

Penelope: Lucky them.

Penelope: Alright. We all know the plan.

Penelope: Sophie you're on Violet watch tonight. The last thing we need is to call an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. She’ll be too busy fretting over your pregnancy to focus on drinking, and that way you don’t need to be on your feet too much or get involved in the game. We can keep you both in the lounge.

Sophie: 👍 That sounds absolutely fine to me.

Sophie: As much as I love Ben. I do not enjoy watching the man he becomes when game night happens.

Penelope: I’ve got team pairings I think will work, so we just need to make sure they happen. Especially Kate and Anthony. They have to be paired together or God help us if they are on opposing teams.

Simon: As much as I hate when they team up, they are better managed when they’re together then they are apart.

Sophie: I do feel kinda bad for Phillip and Michael. They seem so excited. I really don’t think it's fair for us to not warn them.

Simon: Sophie, there is nothing you can do for them. The only way they will understand the hell that is about to break out tonight is by experiencing it first hand.

Simon: WE all had to experience it blind ourselves.

Penelope: You know they would never believe us if we tried to explain it.

Sophie: Still. I did warn Phillip that Eloise can get a little intense when Game Night happens.

Penelope: I told him not to let her have any sugar before she gets there.

“Pen! Have you seen my bag for tonight?”

“No!” Penelope yelled back, staring down at said missing bag.

The small plastic bag was filled with items that her husband had bought off Amazon to help him cheat at tonight’s game. How? Penelope had no idea, but she was currently looking at a small bag filled with items found in a Cluedo board game box, along with a packet of invisible ink pens.

He’d initially hidden the bag (and quite stupidly) under their bed, after excitedly informing her about how he planned to cheat and finally win at Game Night. Penelope had had to plan it perfectly how’d she’d get the items before Colin had enough time to replace them.

Stashing the items into her Mom’s old, Valentino bag, one she’d given Penelope after Phillipa let a lipstick melt in it, knowing full well Colin would not dare go through her mother’s stuff after the last time he’d done so and found items he’d never needed to find in her mother’s possession, Penelope then shoved the bag deep into the back of the hallway closet as her husband came into the room.

“I could have sworn I left it in our room,” he told her.

Penelope plastered the sweetest, most sympathetic smile she could as she watched him. “Are you sure you didn’t leave it where your siblings could see it?”

Colin cursed. “You don’t think Gregory took it?”

“I don’t know,” Penelope shrugged, then faked a gasp, eyes wide with alarm. “You don’t think he’s in cahoots with Anthony?”

“You’re right,” Colin told her, falling for it. “He’s always been a stickler for doing what Anthony wants.”

“You know, we should probably make sure they don’t team up tonight. I was thinking we do couple pairings,” Penelope suggested. “If he and Kate are together they’ll be too busy arguing to focus on winning.”

“You. Are. Brilliant,” Colin told her, coming over and placing his hands on her shoulders before kissing her on the forehead. “I love you. And I love when you get manipulative.”

Oh, you have no idea how manipulative I can be, babe , Penelope thought to herself as she continued to smile sweetly at her husband.

Familia Bridgerton Group Chat

Colin: All right Gregory made his pick.

Colin: It’s Cluedo

“Daddy?”

Phillip looked up and found his daughter standing in the doorway of his greenhouse. Amanda, only nine years old, was still dressed in her pjs. He let out an exhausted sigh, it was now almost one in the afternoon and Marina was going to be here in an hour to pick the twins up for the weekend.

“What is it Amanda?” he asked as he continued misting his orchids.

“Mama Eloise has gone crazy ,” Amanda replied, dragging out the last word in an over the top tone.

“It’s she always crazy?” Phillip teasingly returned, smiling fondly.

Amanda thought it over for a second. “Well, yeah, but this time she’s gone really crazy.”

Phillip frowned. That did not sound good.

Putting the spray bottle down, Phillip exited the greenhouse, Amanda following close behind, and made his way back into the house. Which was when he entered the home and found Eloise pacing through the halls, muttering to herself. Held in her hand was a bag of jelly babies that she was currently munching on.

“–complete and utter incompetent ass,” he heard her say to herself as she popped another candy in her mouth and aggressively chewed it.

“Good morning, Eloise,” Phillip said with forced cheer as he tried to hide the concern in his voice, slowly approaching his wife like she was suddenly a wild animal. When she began stress eating, it was never a good sign.

Eloise’s head snapped up towards him.

“There you are!” she said, suddenly charging at him, making Phillip quickly take a step back in surprise. “What’s your experience with Cluedo?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Cluedo,” Eloise repeated. “You’ve played Cluedo before, yes?”

“Um…yes,” Phillip told her, hesitantly. It had been a few years, but he’d certainly played the murder mystery board game before.

“And you're good at it?” Eloise asked next.

“I mean, I’ve only played it a few times. It’s been a while since I last played it,” he answered.

“Damn it,” Eloise cursed, turning away from him. “That ass. I knew it. I knew he would try to do this.”

“Do what?” Phillip asked. “Who are we talking about?”

“Gregory. It’s Gregory’s turn to pick the game and he chose Cluedo,” Eloise told him, furiously. “The little ass picked the one game he knew I hated.”

Phillip’s frown deepened. “Don’t you love mystery novels?” he asked her. He had an entire shelf worth of them now in the library upstairs.

“That’s different,” she snapped, as if it should be obvious to him his error.

“Okay,” Phillip said slowly, watching Eloise continue to pace back and forth through the hallway, until he stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Honey, are you alright?”

Eloise frowned. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you seem…stressed,” he told her.

But his wife only rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, Phillip, you obviously don’t understand the importance of game night.”

“I don’t?” he asked her.

“Yes,” Eloise replied with an exasperated sigh.

🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝

Violet: Good morning, children ✨💗✨💗

Violet: I hope you are all ready to be on your best behavior tonight. Before you all arrive tonight. I wanted to make sure you all remembered the rules.

Anthony: Of course, mother.

Violet: Would you all like to remind me what they are?

Anthony: No cheating, no weapons, no cursing, no threatening family members or significant others and no emotional manipulation or targeted insults.

Anthony: And especially no cheating.

Eloise: Love how you of all people feel the need to remind us about the no cheating rule.

Anthony: Because I cheat???

Eloise: YES

Eloise: All the time!!

Violet: …

Violet: I will see you all tonight.

“Honey, did you really need to bring this much food?” Simon asked as he placed the stack of baking trays he’d been made to carry down.

Every available space in the kitchen at Number 5 was now covered in baking trays and containers Daphne had brought from their house. It was enough to feed a small army.

“We could have just ordered pizza,” he added.

The glare his wife gave him over her shoulder was enough for Simon to be reminded that silence was the best option for him right now, as he watched Daphne continue to unpack the food and turn on the oven.

“Oh, Daphne,” Violet awkwardly laughed as she walked into her kitchen and saw the sight before her. Her pale blue eyes were wide with concern. “My…you’ve brought so much… food .”

“Well, whatever is left over you can save Mum,” Daphne told her as she continued preparing. “Everything is really good as leftovers.”

Violet gave Simon a panicked look, but he only shook his head at her. A warning that Daphne was in no mood right now to be critiqued or questioned.

“I’ve got a few more things I need to get out of the car. Be right back,” Daphne told them cheerfully as she left the room and headed back outside.

Once she was gone, Violet looked towards him and asked.

“How long has she been baking?”

“Since um…two nights ago,” Simon told her, having had to deal with his wife’s stress cooking as today’s game night got closer and closer. He’d woken up at two in the morning to find her baking a croquembouche, a bloody croquembouche , in their kitchen while she muttered away about how she was definitely going to win game night this time.

“Well, she unfortunately gets stress baking from me,” Violet informed him, apologetically.

THE Children Group Chat

Hyacinth: Alright, we placing bets on tonight or not??

Francesca: On who??? Ourselves?? We all ALWAYS vote for ourselves every time this question is brought up.

Colin: Tbh I think Kate might have a chance this year. We all know she spends most of her time plotting how to kill Anthony, she’s probably an expert at it by now.

Anthony: You win Cluedo by process of elimination not whether or not you know how to kill someone.

Colin: So you agree? That Kate knows how to end your life?

Anthony: I’m not dignifying that with a response.

Colin: You literally just responded to my question 😮💨

Benedict: I’m calling dibs on being partnered with my wife tonight 🥰

Eloise: Omg we get it Benedict. You're whipped.

Benedict: 🖕

Hyacinth: You ASS. You said I could be partnered with Sophie this time!!

Benedict: I have no recollection of ever having that conversation.

“I’m just saying, I don’t think it’s really that big of a deal.”

“Honey, I love you, but I’m starting to think you just don’t understand how important it is that we win tonight.”

“Why? So you can laud it over your siblings that you’re better than them at Cluedo?”

“Yes.”

Sophie couldn't hold back the eye roll she gave her husband, but still accepted his hand as he helped her up the short staircase leading to Number 5. The closer she got to her due date, the more her round stomach and swollen ankles slowed her down, and stairs in particular had become quite cumbersome in recent weeks

“Benedict, it’s a board game. You’re supposed to have fun, not fight your siblings to the death like you're in the Colosseum,” she told her husband as he rapped his knuckles on the front door, watching as he bounced around in a manner that looked as though he desperately needed to use the restroom.

“Don’t you remember Pictionary?” he asked, smiling dreamily at her.

Ah, yes, the Pictionary Incident. She'd conveniently blocked it from her memory given everything that had happened that night.

She'd been dating Benedict for a year when she got invited to her first Bridgerton Game Night. Right after everything with her stepmother finally hit the fan, culminating in her spending three days in jail before Benedict and his mother had found her and got her released. They'd helped her file a lawsuit against her stepmother for the fraud and harassment, but that very lawsuit had left her overwhelmed and unable to sleep. Add to it Benedict yelling at her for her quote, “abysmal” drawing skills and casting her aside in exchange for teaming up with Kate, she’d come to believe Benedict wanted nothing to do with her.

And then Anthony and Colin purposefully dropped a mini keg on Benedict’s hand while she’d been wiping tears away in the bathroom, almost costing him his career (and the ability to use his right hand), and Sophie had been so exasperated by that point she ended up punching Anthony in the face hard enough to give him a black eye and slapping Colin.

She’d been mortified by her actions. Sophie had thought she’d never be able to face his family again after what happened, but Benedict thought otherwise. As did his siblings, who had all lauded her as a hero for what she'd done. It had still taken Kate and Simon, along with Penelope, to convince her they weren't upset with her.

Benedict proposed to her twice in the aftermath. First time after he woke up the next day and was still a little groggy from the morphine, which had led to the famous “soap bucket my finance” text that her in-laws still teased her about, and the second time after he’d been discharged and they had gotten back to the apartment. When he’d finally been able to give her the ring he’d been hiding in their side table.

“You were so hot that night. Not that you aren’t always but God, when you sucker punched Anthony, I swore I could hear a choir going,” Benedict continued.

She raised a brow up at him, unimpressed. “Honey, that might have been the morphine the paramedics gave you. Or the pain from having your hand crushed.”

“Or maybe you are just a literal angel,” Benedict replied, swooping down to give her a quick kiss before she could retort. And right as the front door finally opened.

The sight of her mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, wine glass in hand, and a pained, forced smile on her face as she opened the door for them, was the first cause of concern for Sophie. It didn’t do anything for the mounting worry she felt in the pit of her stomach. That she’d had for the past two weeks, since the idea of tonight's game night had been suggested in the main family group chat.

“Evening, mother. You look as lovely as ever,” Benedict said excitedly, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek before quickly bypassing her and throwing his coat off. Tossing it over the staircase railing as he passed by it and went straight into the living room.

A room where arguing could already be heard already coming from.

Violet blinked as her son disappeared, turning to Sophie before sighing, giving her a tired smile. “How are you Sophie?”

“Well,” Sophie told her as she entered the Bridgerton family home, giving her mother-in-law a quick side hug (given her pregnant stomach made hugging tricky at the moment). “All good?”

“They are still deciding teams,” Violet told her flatly. “It’s been an hour.”

“Sophie, come on!” Benedict called out from the living room. “You’re going to be on my team!”

“Great,” Sophie commented flatly. There went her plan of staying out of the conflict.

At least she’d be able to reign him in if they were on the same side, and things started to get out of hand.

Violet, meanwhile, downed what remained of her half full glass of wine. “Good luck. I’ll be in the lounge watching Love Island if you need me. Do not find a need for me.”

She then disappeared into the room across from the one all of her children were in, closing the door and returning to her marathon of reality TV in the hopes of distracting her from the noise which was her insane children.

Sophie sighed, pulling off her coat and hanging it up (along with Benedict’s) in the front hall closet, before making her way to the living room. Which was where she found her fellow Bridgerton spouses looking exhausted (Penelope) and exasperated (Simon), and a very alarmed looking Michael and Phillip. Kate, it turned out, was one of the loudest arguing voices at the moment.

Benedict, seeing her, patted the space next to him on the couch like an excitable golden retriever. He’d already grabbed another pillow to support her back. And thankfully, Sophie would be next to Francesca and Michael, meaning she wouldn’t have someone screaming in her ear for most of the night.

Penelope flashed her an apologetic smile as she passed by, as Kate and Anthony continued to argue over being on a team together. From what she quickly gathered, the pair had unfortunately ended up on opposing teams. Kate with Gregory and Anthony with Hyacinth. And neither would agree to changing.

“Alright, can we please just play the game!” Simon shouted suddenly, silencing the pair and the room. He blinked, realizing how snappish he’d sounded as everyone stared at him, then took a deep breath, saying in a calmer and quieter tone. “Now that Benedict and Sophie are here, we have everyone. Shouldn't we just start?”

“Let’s. Please,” Phillip added, gently.

It was going to be a long night.

| 20 Minutes Later |

Hyacinth Bridgerton to The Mothership

Hyacinth: Mother. I am texting you this because I wanted to make sure you knew that Gregory is a punk ass liar and anything he tells you or texts you tonight is nothing but a malicious attempt at slandering my name.

Gregory Bridgerton to Mama

Gregory: Hyacinth is the one who lost your diamond earrings last month. She wore them out to go clubbing and then lost them in Regent’s Park when she went skinny dipping with Gareth while drunk.

Gregory: I should clarify that at no point did Gareth make her do any of this. Nor did he get in the pond with her. I’m also pretty sure it's the reason she caught a norovirus.

Gregory: Also, do we have any antacids in the house? My stomach is killing me.

| Half an Hour Later |

The Sane-y Bunch

Sophie: And here I thought tonight wouldn’t be so bad 🙃🙃

Penelope: Literal clown behavior.

Simon: 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

Agatha Danbury to Violet Bridgerton

Agatha: How goes it with the chaos octonary?

Violet: Bickering and threats mainly, but the night is still young.

Agatha: What glass of wine are you on?

Violet: My fourth but I’m prepared to shift to hard liquor if they don’t stop yelling profanities at each other as if I’m not home right now.

| One Hour Later |

“You are the biggest liar on the face of the earth!”

“Well, at least I didn’t crash Mum’s car when I was fourteen!” Hyacinth yelled back.

“That was you?” Anthony shouted at Eloise, who only rolled her eyes and slumped back against the couch.

Putting his head in his hand, rubbing a hand over his face as he rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa, Simon desperately tried to think calm, relaxing thoughts before he finally snapped and went on a killing spree. If he didn’t, his in-laws were going to put him in the ground. Or he would put them all in the ground. It had been almost an hour of arguing, with no one being able to roll the dice or move they’re spots until the debates that had broken out had been resolved.

Then, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. Simon pulled it out, hoping it was a call from work so he could get out of here.

It wasn’t.

Spouses (Minus Kate because WTF Is she on something???)

Michael: Hey, Michael here.

Michael: What the fuck is going on?

Penelope: Game night 😊

Penelope: And to answer your question. No Kate isn’t on anything.

Michael: I’m beginning to see that.

Michael: Again.

Michael: What the fuck???

Michael: Is this normal???? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Francesca this mean spirited.

Michael: I didn’t even think she could be mean.

Sophie: Yes. This is normal.

Penelope: Unfortunately, yes.

Sophie: Does someone want to check on Phillip? He looks ill.

Penelope: He looks catatonic.

Simon: I think he’s a lost cause.

Sparing a glance towards his brother-in-law, Simon found Phillip staring straight ahead, looking stunned, with his hands clasped together on his lap, back stiff and straight as a board as he sat in a perpetual state of silent shock. Ever since Eloise had threatened to throw weedkiller on his ghost orchids. All because he dared to second guess her about the dagger being the murder weapon. He’d been sitting there like that for the past twenty minutes, since the threat had been made. The constant buzzing of his phone in his pocket, vibrating from each text it received, appeared to do nothing in snapping his attention back to reality.

“It’s Ms. Scarlet,” Benedict repeated for the sixteenth time, even louder than the last time he said it.

“No it isn’t!” Kate (who it should be noted was currently Ms. Scarlet with Gregory) yelled back. Even louder than the last time she had yelled it.

“Yes, it is,” Benedict snapped back.

“I think Benedict’s right,” Sophie calmly said, from where she sat next to her husband.

“Sophie, I love you, but no one asked for your ditzy opinion,” Kate shot at her.

Sophie’s dark blonde brows shot up to her hairline as she stared, stunned, at her sister-in-law and close friend's remark.

“Ditzy?”

“Don’t call my wife a ditz,” Benedict ordered loudly.

“Hey, hey ! Don’t yell at my wife!” Anthony shot back, pointing a finger at his brother from where he was sitting on the sofa chair next to his brother. His finger hovering inches away from his brother’s face.

Benedict only slapped his hand away. “Don’t point your finger at me Anthony. You’re not my father.”

For the briefest of moments, Simon was certain that Anthony was capable of shooting laser beams from his eyes with the glare his friend shot his younger brother. The vein in his forehead was certainly bulging right now and he looked ready to lecture Benedict about respecting your elders (i.e. elder brothers ), which would have gone on for the next twenty minutes if he wasn’t stopped, but Sophie interrupted them both before he could.

“I think–” she announced loudly, moving to push herself up from her seated position. “–I’m going to get some water. Honey, can you help me up?”

Benedict was on his feet in seconds, having forgotten all about his brother as he moved to help his wife. Offering out his hands for her to take and pulling her up to her feet once she’d grabbed them, and moving one hand behind her back to help support her while she found her balance again. Simon had to give it to Sophie. She was pretty good at knowing when and what to say to diffuse an argument between the siblings.

“I’ll go with you,” Penelope said, rising to her feet as well. “I need to refill my glass.”

“Here too,” Simon quickly commented, jumping up to follow and snatching his bourbon glass off the coffee table.

“I think I need another beer,” Michael announced. “Francesca, you want something?”

“Not now,” Francesca snappishly replied over her shoulder, before returning to her argument with Colin. They’d been arguing for the past fifteen minutes over whether or not his notepad had invisible ink on it. She'd apparently seen him flashing a UV flight over it. As had Daphne.

“Alright then,” Michael said to no one in particular, before turning to Phillip, grabbing his elbow and pulling the man up to his feet. “Come on, Phil. Let’s get you a drink.”

“Sure,” Phillip replied weakly, still looking rather out of it.

Dragging him to his feet, Michael subsequently was the one to pull Phillip along behind him as the spouses all made a quick exit and headed into the kitchen. They found Violet in the middle of pouring herself another very large glass of red wine, which was empty by the time she finished pouring.

“How goes the game?” she asked them as they all entered.

“No injuries yet. We’re still at the sin list period of the night,” Penelope told her. “Eloise was the one who crashed your car and Anthony’s the one who washed all your passports before your Bali trip that one time. I also want to make sure you knew it was Colin who accidentally killed Daphne’s hamster. Not Benedict. That didn’t come up tonight but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Oh, I know about the hamster,” Violet told her before taking a long sip of her wine. “Colin admitted to it during the Pictionary Incident.”

“Is there by chance any more wine?” Penelope asked.

Violet lifted the empty wine bottle. “This,” she started, which was when they all noticed how flushed her face was. “Was the last bottle.” She then studied the bottle for a few seconds, lips pursed as she stared down the hole and into the bottle. “I should probably go get more.”

“I can drive you,” Simon offered quickly, before the other.

“I think I’m going to walk to the store actually,” she announced to them. “That way I can stay out of here longer.”

Simon visibly deflated. There went his only escape, even if it meant abandoning the others. He was forced to watch as Violet left the room and headed towards the front door.

“I’m going out!” her voice called out to her children, which was quickly followed by the front door slamming before any of them could reply back.

Not that they did.

“Well, this is turning into a wonderful evening,” Penelope commented.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table, with the others following. Michael, after grabbing another beer from the fridge, pulled out a chair for Sophie, who slowly lowered herself down, one hand over her round stomach and the other clutching the chair as she slowly sunk down, before he took a seat next to her. Penelope made sure to get both Sophie and Phillip a glass of water before taking a seat next to Simon on the opposite side.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked the group. All of whom gave her varying looks of discomfort or awkwardness back. “What? We all know this needs to end before it gets out of hand.”

“Sophie, you don’t think there is a chance Benedict Jr could come a little early?” Michael suggested.

“Michael, I can’t just make myself go into labor,” Sophie told him.

“Well, if you fake contractions that will at least get you and Benedict outta here and he looks prepared to strangle Anthony right now,” he informed her.

Sophie only ignored him, shaking her head as she turned towards the still catatonic Phillip.

“Phillip, are you alright?” she asked him.

“She threatened my orchids,” Phillip muttered slowly.

“Yes. We all heard,” Sophie responded worriedly.

“My orchids. My rare dendrophylax lindenii ghost orchids. Do you know how long they took to grow ?” Phillip looked at her fearfully. “Months. It took me months to grow them. I even had to get permission to grow them in the first place.”

Sophie, not the expert on rare plants the way Phillip, with his literal doctorate in botany, was, only nodded along politely, gently and supportively patting his shoulder. Simon pulled out his flask from his back pocket and offered it to Phillip, who took it with shaky hands and took a quick sip, before passing it back to him.

“So, let me get this straight,” Michael said to them. “This is normal for a Bridgerton family game night?”

“Yes,” Simon, Sophie, and Penelope all said back in unison.

“Jesus Christ,” the Scotsman muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he leaned back in his chair. Taking a moment to think, then asking. “Why are they like this?”

“No idea,” Sophie told him.

“I think they chose doing this over paying for family therapy sessions,” Penelope explained.

“I think they're all just insane,” Simon said.

“They’re an endangered species!” Phillip suddenly yelled, evidently still caught up on the threats to his prized flowers and surprising them all with his sudden outburst. “Does she even realize how much trouble she could get in?! How much trouble I could get in?!”

“There, there,” Sophie gently said, patting his shoulder as Phillip put his head in his hands. “There, there.”

“Maybe we can get one of the babysitters to make up an emergency,” Michael suggested next, eyeing Phillip apprehensively as he spoke. A suggestion that had Simon bursting out into a brief fit of laughter, wishing he was as naive and innocent to this all as Michael was.

“Trust me when I say, we will not be able to do that,” he informed Michael. “Agatha’s got my kids right now and she will not help us. She’d rather sit back with a glass of merlot and enjoy the outcome of tonight then willingly involve herself in this chaos. And Edwina’s babysitting for Anthony and Kate’s and I know she won’t help us either.”

“Edwina was present for the Password kerfuffle back when Anthony was trying to date her,” Penelope explained, seeing the confused look on Michael’s face.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Michael asked.

“Besides it being the night Anthony and Kate finally hooked up by hate-fucking in the gazebo out back, and Gregory slashing Simon’s tires, not the worst game night we ever had,” Penelope answered with a shrug as she looked to Simon for agreement. “But it was enough for Edwina to never want to deal with it again. In any capacity.”

“You’re forgetting Hyacinth nearly falling out of the upstairs window and breaking her leg,” Simon added, impassively.

Penelope blinked. She was silent for a moment as she recalled the minutes they’d all spent in a panic outside, watching on in horror as the youngest Bridgerton daughter, only ten at the time, clung to the railing of the balcony outside her room. If it hadn’t been for Simon racing upstairs and pulling her back over when they’d heard her all screaming, she probably would have fallen and broken something. Or worse.

“I think I actually suppressed that part,” she remarked to him and Simon nodded back his understanding.

“Posy might help us if I ask,” Sophie offered as she absently rubbed her hand up and down her swollen stomach. “Benedict would definitely believe something was wrong if she called.”

“The only problem with that idea, Sophie, is that you are a terrible liar,” Simon said.

Sophie gasped, appalled. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” Penelope told her. “Benedict might be blinded by your beauty and kindness to think you’d ever try deceiving him, but the others will see straight through it.”

“And during Game Night of all nights, they’ll already be suspicious,” Simon said and Sophie frowned at him. “Their paranoia increases tenfold.”

Before she had a chance to respond, another voice interrupted their conversation. A voice that had them all tensing in their seats, like school children who’d just been caught misbehaving by the headmistress.

“Oh, there you all are,” Daphne said, smiling, as she wandered into the kitchen. “I was wondering where you all had gotten too.”

The redheaded Bridgerton daughter immediately bee-lined straight towards the oven, which had been on during this time cooking the little appetizers Daphne had made. Deviled eggs and a charcuterie board were already sitting on the kitchen island, with a smaller matching one in the living room, but Daphne (the uncontested queen of hosting) had also brought some impressive bite-size food items like little sliders and savory tarts that she’d been cooking throughout the night.

If there was one benefit to the Bridgerton Game Nights, it at least came with good booze and Daphne’s amazing cooking.

But Simon still eyed his wife suspiciously. When he’d left her in the living room minutes earlier, she’d been arguing fiercely with her brother and sister over an alleged invisible ink pen and now she was standing before them, the picture of perfection. Cheerful in fact.

Abnormally cheerful.

Concerningly cheerful. In the manner that Simon recognized as when his wife was going to get particularly passive-aggressive about something.

“Hey, honey,” Simon started slowly, trying to act natural. “Need any help?”

“I’m good,” Daphne replied in her typical, cheerful bravado, but Simon could still hear the edge in her voice as she opened up the oven, pulling out the tray of food that had been cooking inside.

“Can I just say Daphne,” Michael started, flashing his trademark charming smile. “You’ve done a wonderful job with the food tonight. Truly spectacular.”

“Oh, thank you,” Daphne replied sweetly with a nervous giggle.

In any other situation, Simon might have been jealous of the subtle pink hue that developed on his wife’s cheeks, which only made her look even more beautiful, but if Michael’s compliments and charm kept his wife happy tonight, he was welcomed to endure it.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Simon asked again, watching as his wife used a spatula to move the little pastries she’d been warming from the metal cooking tray to a small plate.

“Yep,” was all she said.

“Daphne,” Penelope started. “I just want to say that I really did try to make sure Colin didn’t bring any invisible pens tonight. I made sure I had all of them.”

“Oh, it’s fine Pen,” Daphne said back with her cheerful, mom voice, smiling brightly back at her sister-in-law. “What with your history with my brother, I knew you had a like 1 in 10 chance of reining him in. It’s not like he has a good track record of noticing you when you're speaking to him.”

And there it was.

Penelope blinked as she registered the insult Daphne had directed toward her. The others sitting around her all watched on in stunned surprise, eyes all wide in shock. Even Phillip had lifted his head to look at Daphne in shock as the air around them became awkwardly uncomfortable.

But Simon only closed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, wishing he’d pushed harder to escort Violet to the liquor store earlier.

“See you all back in there,” Daphne cheerfully said in a sing-song voice and a wide smile as she carried the tray out of the room. “Don’t want everyone to think you guys are strategizing behind our backs.”

And then she was gone.

After a few moments, Simon sighed. “Penelope, I’d like to apologize on behalf of my wife for–”

But Penelope only held up a hand, silencing him. She took a deep breath. “It’s fine. We all agreed to excuse anything that lot says on game night.”

“I’m still more than welcome to call Posy,” Sophie offered again.

“If it comes to it, we’ll call her,” Simon told her with another sigh, relenting. They could make it work somehow if they had to.

“We should all probably get back in there,” Michael said. “Before Daphne throws us all under the bus.”

“Which she will gladly do,” Simon replied in agreement, rising up from his chair.

As he went to stand there was a sudden crashing sound from the other room, followed by loud and shocked expletives and shouting. Things were being tossed about and spilled, glass was shattering, as a loud high pitch scream was heard, followed by the other Bridgertons all yelling simultaneously.

“Oh my God! IS THAT A KNIFE ?!” Daphne shouted.

“Where the hell did you get a knife from?!” Anthony yelled.

“Hyacinth, put it down!” Benedict ordered.

"Why does she have a knife!" Francesca screamed.

“That does not sound good,” Simon said, rising from his seat.

As they all rushed to the room, Simon and Penelope were the first ones to make it in. Phillip and Michael had stayed behind to help Sophie out of her chair, meaning they were not witnesses to the sight that was Hyacinth holding a small switchblade in her outstretched arm as she stood on one side of the couch. Gregory stood on the other side, clutching his lower arm, a small trickle of blood slipping through his fingers as he stared at his younger sister in stunned shock. The rest of the siblings were all standing a safe distance away from the two, hands out in front of them as if they were handling feral dogs.

“You bitch!” Gregory yelled. “You fucking stabbed me!”

“You told Gareth about my lisp?!” Hyacinth screamed back furiously.

“I thought he knew!” Gregory shouted back. “He’s your friend! I thought you told him everything!”

“Not things he could use against me!” was the youngest Bridgerton loud, shrill reply. She tried to move around the couch to get him, but Gregory only moved at the same time as her, keeping the large sofa between them both as a makeshift barrier against his sister’s assault.

“Hyacinth, put the knife down!” Francesca ordered this time.

“Where the fuck did you get a knife from?” Anthony shouted again, trying to approach them before stopping, unable to see a clear opportunity to get in between them.

“Oh my God!” Sophie gasped as she came up behind Simon and Penelope, and saw what was going on in the living room.

“Sophie, honey, stay out of the living room,” Benedict, hearing his wife, ordered. He was clutching his hand tightly from where Hyacinth had cut him after he tried to grab the knife from her.

“Is someone going to stop her from killing me?!” Gregory shouted in a panic at his siblings.

“Who gave Hyacinth a knife?” Michael asked, not to anyone in particular. And not that anyone answered.

But Penelope knew. She knew exactly who it was that had given Hyacinth a switchblade. A certain dumbass named Colin Bridgerton who’d bought the knife for his sister while he was in Japan, after Penelope explicitly told him not to. After she'd told him that it was a terrible idea to give Hyacinth her own personal weapon.

And her dumbass husband currently could not meet her glare as he kept himself on the outskirts of the group. To remain, hopefully, unnoticed.

Gregory, seeing an opening now that Penelope and Simon had moved out of the doorway, made an attempt to escape the room. With his sister hot on his heels. He dodged and weaved between the spouse with the skills one could only expect from a rugby player and fled out into the hallway.

And Hyacinth almost caught him as she went after him, getting close to grabbing him when she suddenly tripped over her feet, flying forward, the switchblade still grasped in her hand–

And stabbed the knife straight into Simon’s upper arm.

An audible gasp was heard through the room, before it went dead silent. And it didn’t help that Simon barely even flinched, grunting as the knife stabbed through fabric and skin and into his arm, sliding through the muscle like a hot knife through butter. He was too caught up in the shock of what had just happened that all he could do was stare at Hyacinth in disbelief, brows furrowed and mouth partially open. And Hyacinth only stared back, equally just as surprised.

The silence lingered a few more seconds, with Simon and Hyacinth both staring at one another in shock while the others watched on, before it was broken by Daphne screaming.

“Did you just stab my husband ?!”

The noise immediately amped up again as the siblings all began to frantically yell and admonish their youngest sister for what she’d just done. Penelope slipped from the room to grab the first aid kit while they were all busy focusing on Hyacinth.

Who said nothing as she let go of the knife, leaving it stuck in Simon’s arm, before fleeing the room and racing towards the stairs.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony roared, charging after her.

As he rounded the coffee table and chased after his sister, followed by Kate, Benedict, and Colin, he accidentally knocked over the candle that had been burning on the table, which quickly started a small fire when the flame caught the alcohol soaked paper scattered over the wooden tabletop.

Something that was overlooked in the chaos.

“Simon, are you alright?” Francesca asked.

Daphne rushed over to his side, hands hovering over the knife. “Oh God, oh God, oh God–”

“Honey,” Simon gently told her. “It’s alright. I’m fi–Do not pull out the knife!”

“But she stabbed you,” Daphne said, hand still clutching the handle of the knife.

“I’m aware,” Simon replied, panicked eyes trained on her hands. “But when someone is stabbed with something you leave the object in. You do not pull it out .”

“But she stabbed you.”

“I’m aware, Daphne.”

“I got the first aid kit,” Penelope yelled as she rushed back into the room, carrying a medium sized red duffel bag with ‘first aid’ in bold white letters on the side. It certainly didn’t look like the tiny plastic ones you could get from the store. More like the ones professionals would have.

“Where did you get that from?” Colin asked, confused.

“Phillipa. Her friend’s an EMT who told me where to buy these ones,” Penelope answered.

“Why do you have it?” he asked next. “You could have just taken the one from upstairs.”

Which was a simple store bought one that hadn’t been replaced in years and one Penelope knew did not have enough supplies to handle the stabbing that had just occurred in the home. And while Violet was smart enough to have enough first aid supplies for all eight of her children, she was the only one who knew where they were and was currently absent.

But there were more important issues going on right now.

“Um if I could just have everyone’s attention–” Michael started behind them, eyeing the growing flames building on the table.

The flames had begun to lick the arm of the closest sofa, blackening the fabric as it too began to catch alight. Smoke had slowly begun building in the room. Somehow unnoticed by the seven people still standing in the living room.

“Because I suspected we would need it,” Penelope told her husband, looking at him in disbelief, as she ignored Michael.

Colin’s brow furrowed deeper. “Why did you suspect we would need a professional level first aid kit for game night of all things?”

“Excuse me, if I could just–” Michael started again.

But Penelope waved a hand to what was going on in front of her, still oblivious to the growing problem behind her as she placed the bag down and began to unzip it.

“Because of this!” she hissed at her husband. “Do you not see what is happening, Colin?!”

“I’ll just deal with it myself then,” Michael muttered under his breath, getting the sense he was on his own, as he hastily exited the living room and headed towards the kitchen.

“Where’s Gregory gone?” Penelope asked.

“Gregory!” Simon shouted. “Gregory, you can come out now!”

“Oh!” Sophie quietly gasped behind him as he yelled, pressing a hand to her stomach. Grimacing as she felt a thousand little needles stab into her groin before her eyes widened in panicked realization. “Oh no.”

“Gregory!” Penelope called out again. “Gregory, seriously, she gone–”

She was suddenly interrupted by a loud shushing noise, which sounded like compressed air being released from a metal canister. They all turned to find Michael spraying the coffee table and curtains with the fire extinguisher kept in the kitchen. White smoke burst from the painted red can as it was released, the carbon dioxide lingered briefly in the air as it extinguished the flames, rolling over the furniture in soft waves as it slowly faded away. Leaving behind the burnt black evidence of fire damage; which was mainly on the table and the sofa that had been left at the mercy of it.

“Mum is going to kill us,” Francesca remarked as she saw the destruction.

“Yep,” Colin said, popping the ‘p’ as he spoke.

“Gregory?” Penelope called out again. "Gregory, come on! It's safe now!"

Down the hall, the door to the lounge cracked open.

“Is she gone?” Gregory asked them, not poking his head.

“I think the others are chasing her through the back of the house,” Penelope told him, which was followed by the sounds of glass shattering. As if right now cue.

The door creaked open further before Gregory stepped back out into the hallway. He looked pale and clammy, clutching his arm where his sister had gotten him.

And immediately threw up into the vase next to the door.

“Oh my God, Gregory, are you alright?” Penelope asked, worriedly as she came to his side. But Gregory only continued to heave into the porcelain vase.

“No,” he groaned out, clutching his side. “My stomach’s been killing me all evening.”

Simon looked concerned as he studied the young boy’s symptoms. He’d noticed Gregory had been complaining of a stomach ache all evening. Add to it the vomiting and nausea, the fact he hadn’t seen him eat any of the food Daphne had brought when he usually plowed through them at the same pace as Colin did, only raised his suspicions.

“Gregory, you’ve never had your appendix removed before, have you?” he asked and his brother-in-law only shook his head.

“I think we should call an ambulance,” Penelope suggested.

“Well, I think we can just get in the car and drive to A&E. It will definitely save us some time,” Simon replied.

“Simon, you were stabbed,” Penelope pointed out.

“I’ve already stemmed the bleeding and it doesn’t look like it hit anything vital,” Simon retorted as he studied the tourniquet he wrapped around his arm. “And Gregory’s wound isn’t too bad either.”

“Maybe it would be a good idea to call them,” Sophie said weakly.

“Sophie, I’m fine. It’s not too bad,” Simon assured her.

“Oh no, not for you Simon. I meant for me,” Sophie replied politely. Which was an immediate cause for concern.

With the attention shifted to her, they all saw she was leaning against the sofa, gripping it tightly with one hand while the other was pressed against her stomach. She was breathing slowly. Slow, long exhales out her mouth and deep inhales through her nose.

And there was a wet stain on the carpet by her feet.

Penelope gasped, eyes widening as she noticed the stain. “Oh my God. Sophie, did your water break?”

Sophie took another deep breath, grimacing. “Yeah...I think so.”

“I’ll get Benedict,” Michael told them all before speedily exiting.

Seeing his sister-in-law and dear friend going into early labor had apparently been enough to snap Phillip back to reality, and he quickly pulled out his phone to dial 999 while the others crowded around Sophie.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod,” Penelope said rapidly as she came to Sophie’s side, taking the blonde’s arm and leading her around the sofa so she could sit down. “You’re having a baby?” Sophie nodded. “Right now?”

“Yes, Penelope, right now,” Sophie returned, exasperated.

“Hi, yes, I need an ambulance at Number 5–” Phillip started to say into the phone behind them.

Sophie squeezed Penelope’s hand as she felt another wave of contractions hit, gritting her teeth as she tried breathing through the pain. She could feel herself begin to panic, her mind begin to race. She wasn’t due for another three weeks. Her baby was coming a month early. A month early!

“It’s early. It’s too early,” she said weakly, voice quivering.

“You’re going to be fine, Sophie,” Penelope assured her. “You and the baby are going to be just fine.”

“ Oi !” Michael’s voice was heard yelling over the arguing in the other room, which was quickly silenced. “If you all are done trying to kill each other, Sophie’s in labor.”

“ What ?” Benedict’s voice yelled, followed by a quick scuffle, the sounds of something large being thrown and Hyacinth screaming.

Before they knew it, Benedict was racing into the room, nearly colliding with the doorway as he did. A panicked look on his face as he scanned the room for his wife, spotting her immediately where she was sitting on the couch, and rushing to her side.

“Sophie? Are you–?” he started and she quickly nodded. “Okay, okay. This is fine. We’ll just call an ambulance–”

“Already on it,” Phillip told him, covering the phone with his hand as he did.

Benedict nodded, before turning back to his wife, crouching down and taking her hand from Penelope, much to the redhead’s relief. Sophie had been squeezing the life out of it.

“I’m here,” he told her gently as Sophie began squeezing his hand. “I’m here. It’s alright.”

Sophie took another few deep breaths as she gave him a worried look. “It’s early. It’s too early,” she told him this time.

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” Benedict assured her.

“You asshole!” Hyacinth suddenly screamed as she charged into the room and immediately threw something at Benedict.

Whatever the hell it was that she'd thrown, it impacted directly with Benedict’s eye, causing him to curse loudly as he flinched back, slapping a hand over his injured eye, before bending over in pain.

“Ow, fucking hell, Hy. I think you got my eye,” he hissed, clutching his face.

“That was for throwing me!” Hyacinth screeched.

“For God’s sake, Hyacinth,” Anthony shouted as he came into the room, out of breath.

Realizing she’d been cornered, and knowing she was in for one hell of a lecture from her elder brother, Hyacinth made another run for it. Speedily racing out of the room once more and in the direction of the kitchen. Again.

“HYACINTH!” Anthony yelled, chasing after her. Again.

“Hyacinth, stop running!” Daphne shouted.

“So, nobody thinks that it's weird Sophie suddenly went into labor?” Colin remarked suspiciously.

“Babe, shut up,” Penelope told him.

“I mean he’s right. I just think it's a little odd that right now is when the baby decided to come,” Eloise commented as she looked into the room and saw Sophie.

“Eloise!” Phillip snapped at his wife, aghast by her indifference.

“What?” Eloise looked back at him with confusion (and a little defensive as well). “It’s just a little too convenient. Isn’t it?”

Penelope only sighed. Again.

“Eloise. Please stop talking,” she told her friend.

But Sophie was already crying at this point, her breaths becoming more ragged. It wasn’t apparent if she’d heard her sister-in-laws remarks but she was certainly descending into hysterics and panic.

“It’s too early,” she gasped out. “Three weeks? That’s a month! That’s too early, isn’t it?”

“Sophie, breath, it’s okay,” Benedict told her, trying to comfort her while also holding a hand over his still painfully injured eye. “You’re okay. The baby will be fine.”

Sophie's distressed had seemed to be able to bring some sense back to the Bridgertons. Well, two Bridgertons. The other one besides her husband, who arguable was the second most likely to keep a level head.

Francesca.

“The baby’s going to be fine,” she assured Sophie, coming to her sister-in-law’s side. “I was two weeks early. So was Hyacinth.”

“Hyacinth was a breech birth,” Sophie hissed back.

Francesca ignored her, taking deep breaths as she continued. “Following my breaths, Sophie.”

“Does anyone smell smoke?” Phillip, still on the phone with 999, asked them all. Seconds before the house’s fire alarm went off.

“My quiches!” Daphne screamed before rushing out of the room to the kitchen. Eloise followed her sister to see what was happening in the kitchen.

“I got it!” Michael yelled from the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t the sprinklers have turned on by now?” Phillip commented, glancing up at the chunk of metal sticking out of the ceiling above them.

“They’ve been broken for months and Mum’s still waiting for the handyman to fix them,” Francesca replied quickly as she gently pushed Sophie towards the front door. “But I think right now, the best course of action is for us all to leave before we get smoke inhalation.”

They all nodded in agreement, beginning to make their way towards the front of the house, Simon and Penelope were assisting Gregory, who was still vomiting into the small bin, while Sophie was helped by Benedict and Francesca.

“I mean at the moment I think we just have the three issues,” Phillip said politely into the phone as he followed them. “So, if you could just send two ambulances that would be greatly appric–”

Before he could continue, there were the sounds of an explosion from the kitchen, a loud bang followed by a multitude of expletives being yelled, and more screaming. Everyone currently in the hallway and living room could only stare in the direction of the kitchen with horrified concern and shock. None of them knew what it was that had just happened and frankly, none of them really wanted to know.

“You know what,” Phillip added, voice calm as he stared down the hallway. “Just send everyone. Fire, ambulance, police. Everyone you have.”

As he continued to relay information to emergency services, the remaining Bridgertons began making their way down the hall and out of the smoking kitchen, all coughing and choking on smoke.

And Anthony was missing his eyebrows.

“Good lord,” Simon remarked.

“What?” Anthony choked back, still trying to recover from his coughing fit, as he reached out and grabbed the back of Hyacinth’s shirt before she could make another attempt to run.

Not seeing it worth telling his friend what had happened to his face, Simon just shook his head. “Nothing,” he told him. “It’s nothing.”

“What the hell just happened?” Penelope demanded.

“Kate and Anthony just blew up the kitchen,” Hyacinth answered through her own coughing fit as she struggled against her brother.

“We did not!” Kate shot back. “It was Daphne’s bloody quiches that did it.”

“My quiches were already burnt to ash,” Daphne retorted, furiously. “You threw a rum soaked towel on to a candle!”

“I need you to understand that that does not explain the explosion we just heard,” Simon told them flatly.

But as Daphne opened her mouth, most likely to explain, she was interrupted by a panicked Francesca yelling.

“Where the hell is Michael?” she asked them, alarmed.

“Where’s Eloise?” Phillip added, looking concerned as he saw his wife was also not amongst them either.

Before anyone could guess, there were the sounds of a pair of people coughing loudly as they came down the hallway. Seconds later, Michael and Eloise both appeared, choking as they covered their mouths, gasping for clean smoke free air.

“Fuck,” Eloise cursed as she choked, doubling over to rest her hands on her upper legs as she continued coughing.

“Oh, thank God,” Phillip breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw his wife.

“So no one here thinks it’s weird Sophie’s suddenly in labor?” Kate suddenly asked loudly to the room.

“What the fuck, Kate?” Benedict yelled, appalled.

“DON’T YELL AT MY WIFE!” Anthony shouted.

“FUCK OFF, ANTHONY!” Benedict shouted back.

“Benedict, please–” Sophie started, breathing heavily.

“I just think it’s a little odd that now is when she’s in labor,” Kate continued loudly and stubbornly. “Like, obviously, I know they were losing and everything but–”

“Kate. Shut the fuck up,” Simon ordered curtly, but another shouting match had started between Anthony and Benedict, with Sophie pleading for them to stop.

“That’s what I said,” Colin told her and Penelope looked about ready to kill him.

But Penelope focused on doing a quick head count, noting that everyone was now present in the hallway, and with the smoke still coming from the kitchen, it was probably a good idea that they all leave.

“Okay, let’s all get outside,” she shouted over the alarm to all of them. “We can all wait for the ambulances outside.”

“Well, now that the fire is out, we should all probably–” Simon started.

“Oh no, Simon, the fire’s still going in there,” Michael interrupted him, still coughing.

“The fire is still going?!” Penelope yelled.

Michael nodded. “Fire still going,” he repeated back. Which was when it became apparent there was too much smoke coming out of the kitchen for it to have been extinguished.

“Okay, everyone– ” Simon started to yell but was cut off before he could order them out of the house.

“What on earth did the eight of you do?” a voice boomed suddenly.

They all froze, fourteen heads all turning to look towards and finding Violet staring at them all in horror as she stood in the front doorway, an unopened bottle of wine in one hand and a plastic bag from Tesco’s in the other.

(A plastic bag that seemed suspiciously like it was concealing a box of cigarettes.)

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), none of them had a chance to respond. Because the moment Violet had walked into her home and found her living room curtains smoldering, with smoke billowing out from her recently updated kitchen down the hall, two of her children injured (one of whom was also throwing up into a vase) with a son-in-law injured as well, and a daughter-in-law experiencing full blown contractions as she sat on the staircase—

The broken fire suppression system finally decided to turn on.

Violet Bridgerton to Edwina Sharma

Violet: Hi Edwina. I tried calling but I must have got you at a bad time. Anthony and Kate are fine but they both landed themselves in the hospital tonight. They’re completely and utterly fine. There is no need to worry about them, but neither one is going to be able to come home tonight since the doctors want them to stay overnight for observation. Are you alright watching the boys and Newton? If not I can come get them or call a sitter.

Edwina: Hi Mrs. Bridgerton. Don’t worry. Kate told me you guys were hosting game night when she asked me to babysit so I sort of assumed something would happen. I already called Mum and she’s here with us right now. The kids are fine.

Violet: Wonderful. I’ll let them both know. If anything changes, do not hesitate to call me.

Edwina: When you talk to my sister again please tell her I said ‘I told you so.’

Violet: Will do.

Sophie Bridgerton to Posy Reiling

Sophie: Okay don’t freak out.

Posy: What happened?

Posy: Where are you?

Posy: Are you okay?

Posy: Is Ben okay?

Posy: Omg it is the baby!?!? Is the baby okay?!?!

Posy: Pls tell me everything's okay.

Posy: Sophie??

Posy: Sophie answer me!!!

Sophie: Posy breathe. It takes time to type up a text and I’m currently experiencing full blown contractions while texting right now so it’s taking me a minute.

Posy: Omg Sophie. Are you in labor???

Sophie: Unfortunately yes. The little peanut decided tonight’s the night he wants to come into the world so I’m currently heading to the hospital with Ben. I’m really sorry to put this on you but can you watch Charlie a little longer?

Posy: Absolutely. It’s totally not an issue at all. Charlie’s already had dinner and is asleep upstairs right now. I’ll text work that I’m taking tomorrow off. You're sure you're okay? Cause I can grab Charlie and be at the hospital as soon as possible.

Sophie: I’m okay. I promise. ❤️❤️

Posy: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sophie: Ben and I will try to keep you updated as much as possible but it may be a little difficult as both of us are going to need to get checked out by a doctor.

Posy: Is Benedict okay?

Sophie: It’s a long story.

Phillip Crane to Marina Thompson

Phillip: Hey. Can you keep the kids till Monday?

Marina: Of course. Is everything okay?

Phillip: Besides currently sitting in an ambulance on the way to the hospital with Eloise, who is getting treatment for smoke inhalation right now, I’m doing great.

Marina: Omg is everyone alright?

Phillip: We’re fine. Don’t worry. Just please don’t tell the kids.

Phillip: And can you also please go to my house and lock my greenhouse?

Marina: What happened?

Phillip: Marina. You do not want to know.

Agatha Danbury to Violet Bridgerton

Agatha: How many casualties this time?

Violet: Nine. Do you mind watching the girls longer?

Agatha: Not at all.

| The Next Day |

🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝

Violet: I know I already said this at the hospital but I am saying it again here.

Violet: I will never EVER host another game night. Never again. And to make certain of this I have stripped this home of every board game, deck of cards and bloody party game we own or have ever owned. You aunts have graciously taken your father’s old poker set and blackjack set and so help me if any of you use your children as an excuse to bring new games into this home I will write you out of my will.

Francesca: Mum, I want to say again that I am so so sorry about what happened last night. It will never happen again.

Violet: I would hope so since five out of the eight of you ended up in the hospital last night.

Violet: And the damages. Good lord I don’t even know how I’m going to fix this.

Anthony: I’ll take care of that Mum. I’ve already called the contractor to come look at the house on Monday.

Anthony: I also want to say that I’m sorry. It was my responsibility to keep everything in order. I should have controlled the situation better and instead, I allowed it to reach the chaos it did last night.

Colin: Sorry again Mum.

Daphne: I’m really sorry about the kitchen Mum. I swear I’ll pay for all the damages. I promise.

Violet: Hyacinth do you have anything you would like to say right now??

Violet: Hyacinth I know you have your phone with you.

Anthony: Hyacinth Amelia Bridgerton, answer your mother.

Hyacinth: Omg jesus christ. I’m literally hooked up to oxygen right now.

Daphne: As if Anthony, Eloise, Kate, Michael and Gregory aren’t as well.

Daphne: Michael was literally almost intubated, that's how much smoke he got in his lungs!

Daphne: Not to mention what you did to MY HUSBAND!

Francesca: I would like to clarify that Michael is fine. He didn’t need to get intubated. The doctors were just concerned about the swelling. He was discharged this morning.

Hyacinth: 😮💨😮💨😒😒😒

Violet: I’m still waiting.

Hyacinth: Fine

Hyacinth: I’m sorry I stabbed Simon.

Hyacinth: and Gregory.

Anthony: And???

Colin: I believe you also stabbed Benedict

Hyacinth: I grazed him.

Colin: You hit him in the eye with the dagger piece after slicing open his hand.

Hyacinth: AND????

Benedict: I’m glad to see that you're so guilt ridden by it.

Violet: Benedict!

Violet: How are you and Sophie??

Benedict: Mum. Firstly, I just want to say how sorry I am for what happened last night. We were all incredibly immature, unruly and out of line. Myself included. The damage we did to the house you made with Dad was inexcusable and our actions towards one another was appalling. It was completely unacceptable what happened and I promise it will never ever happen again.

Benedict: And if it helps.

Benedict sent a photo .

Benedict: Alexander Richard Bridgerton got here about quarter after one this morning. Six pounds and five ounces and perfectly healthy. So is Sophie. She did wonderfully. We just got home. 🥰🥰🥰

Daphne: Oh, he’s adorable Benedict. Congratulations x

Anthony: Congratulations brother.

Francesca: He looks so content. And Sophie looks as beautiful as ever.

Violet: This certainly helps. Thank you Benedict. ☺️☺️☺️

Violet: But I’m still upset 😤

Violet: WITH ALL OF YOU 😡😡😡

Colin: Congratulations Ben.

Colin: And might I add I’m loving the eye patch.

Benedict: Shut up.

Hyacinth: Yeah Captain Hook. When are you returning to Neverland to get Peter???

Colin: 😂😂 I was going to say he already has with Charlie, but it looks like he’s too busy being Mr. Smee.

Benedict: Captain Hook is missing a hand not an eye.

Colin: Let me know when you find Captain Flint’s lost treasure?

Benedict: Okay. That's enough.

Anthony: Knock it off you two.

Violet: The two of you. Stop harassing your brother.

Hyacinth: 😂😂😂 Any ghost ships on the horizon?? Found the kraken yet.

Colin: how’s captaining the Black Pearl been for you???

Benedict: All right. That’s it. Sophie told me to me to be nice but fuck you both.

Benedict: Mother. The reason Hyacinth had a switchblade is because Colin bought her one while he was in Japan. I told him not to but he didn’t listen to me. She’s had this weapon for months and has periodically threatened us with it. Especially Gregory.

Benedict: She also, for those who do not know, has an illegal taser hidden in the shoebox under her bed.

Anthony: THERE’S A TASER!!!

Francesca: Jesus Christ Hyacinth.

Hyacinth: You DICK!!!

Hyacinth: Who told you??

Benedict: Gregory

Benedict: I went to check on him when Sophie was being discharged. He was high as a kite but very willing to tell me ALL of your secrets.

Violet: Hyacinth Amelia Bridgerton. When I get back to the hospital you and I are going to have a very long and frank conversation about safety and attacking your siblings.

Violet: with WEAPONS!!!

Violet: And Colin. I don't even know where to begin with you on this.

Hyacinth: Well you’ll have to find me first.

Colin: ✌🏻😔✌🏻

Colin: All I did was try and be a good brother and this is what I get. Betrayal.

Benedict: Colin also refused to believe Sophie was in active labor and was just faking it.

Colin:🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

Benedict: As did Eloise and Anthony. And Kate too.

Eloise: what the FUCK Benedict???

Eloise: We all nearly died of smoke inhalation!!

Benedict: MY WIFE WENT INTO LABOR!

Benedict: I had to meet my son three weeks before he due date while wearing a fucking eye patch because SOMEONE has such severe anger issues that nearly resulted in a murder charge being issued last night.

Benedict: Sophie had a panic attack last night because she thought our baby was dying. I have not gotten any sleep between getting treated for my eye/hand AND worrying over Sophie. At this point I’m running solely on very shitty hospital coffee and sheer spite!

Benedict: And I also almost missed Alexander being born because of all this and now Charlie keeps demanding I play pirates and sword fight him while Sophie tries to get some sleep because Posy was so worried about him being emotionally scarred by all of this she told him I became a pirate!!

Eloise: I’m guessing you're making Barbossa the godfather.

Colin: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Benedict: Banned. You all are banned from visiting us save for mother. I don’t want any of you near Sophie or my children right now. And I don’t care how much you beg. None of you are ever allowed to be near us again.

Benedict: And I’m not even going to start about being completely and utterly fucking right about Ms. Scarlet being the murderer with the fucking candlestick in the fucking library. I cannot believe you all almost convinced me I was wrong!!

Eloise: Omg did you check the damn envelope while we were being loaded into ambulances?!?!?

Benedict: Of course I fucking did!!!

Violet: Benedict. Sweetheart. I’ll come check on you and Sophie after I’ve dealt with the taser currently sitting in my house and then the owner of said weapon. Please get some rest and take it easy.

Benedict: Thank you Mum ❤️ Can I just say how incredibly grateful and blessed I am to have gotten you as my mother? You do a wonderful job every day at managing us and it is forever a testament to your strength and character. I truly do not know what I would do without you.

Violet: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Colin: Kiss ass

Eloise: Mama’s boy

Benedict removed Colin and Eloise from the chat.

Benedict: And one more thing.

Benedict: How are your eyebrows doing brother???

Anthony: You absolute piece of shit.

#bridgerton #my fics.

59 notes · View notes

clangenrising · 8 months

Text

Month 11 - Leafbare

Mystique was good at her job. Scorch spent the week trying to sneak out of the house at odd times of day but the Folk made that difficult. At least, she was starting to realize, they didn’t actually care how she spoke to them. Whether she pleasantly asked if they would please consider her request or she loudly demanded they open the door right this second, they smiled at her and spoke her words back in their garbled accents. The only rule seemed to be not to shout while they were asleep, which was unfortunate given their strange sleeping habits. Scorch was starting to feel more like the queen of the house than a servant of her Folk.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to help her in her attempts to escape. Every time she slipped out the back she was able to slink across the yard at best before Mystique jingled over the fence with a friendly greeting. It was frustrating, to say the least.

That was until the Folk started tinkering with the garden door. She tried to examine what they were doing but the kit Folk quickly carried her away. It wasn’t until after dinner that they took her over to the door and showed her the new tunnel they had made just for her. Excitement thrummed through her and she spent a few minutes just going back and forth through it, testing its limits. She even indulged the kit Folk in a game when they started poking the feather wand through the flap to tease her.

She was free! Now it would only be a matter of time before she managed to slip out under Mystique’s nose and from there she would have no trouble in getting back to the wilderness, assuming fortune was in her favor. She spent the evening playing with her kit Folk and enjoying the warmth of the house knowing that soon she would have to bid them all goodbye. Around dusk, she spotted Mystique walking along the top of the fence and she waved from her window with a wide smile. So long, sucker.

That night, once the Folk had gone to bed and she’d spent a good hour or so trying to get out of her collar to no success, she stepped out into her garden and let the sharp cold of night wash over her. She smiled, took a deep breath, and let it out, watching the fog spill into the air. Turning, Scorch slunk around the side of the house headed for the front yard. She would take the road rather than the fences. That would minimize the chances of being seen by any house cats who might be hanging around.

A sudden rustle from her bushes caught her attention. Her gaze snapped in that direction. Her ears strained for another sound, eyes searched for some identifying feature. It was a cat, that was certain, a thin dark shape crouching in the leaves. Scorch lifted her head and glared at the creature, putting on all the airs her station as Exalted afforded her.

“Who dares skulk around my garden, spying on me?” she asked, tail twitching upright.

The shape shuffled awkwardly and a skinny dark blue and white molly poked her head out of the greenery to squeak, “A-apologies, your grace! I wasn’t spying, I promise!”

“Then what were you doing?” Scorch scoffed, stepping closer to look the cat over. She was thin as a twig and incredibly scruffy, with patches of missing fur and big copper eyes.

“Um,” the cat paled, seemingly unable to come up with another excuse. “I- well-”

“What’s your name, Chaff?” snapped Scorch, enjoying the power she held. If it weren’t for Razor, she might have liked to stick around. Being exalted wasn’t so bad.

“M-midge, your grace,” the cat whispered reedily.

Scorch huffed in amusement. “A tiny fly. Fitting.”

“Y-yes, your grace,” said Midge, ducking her head in reverence.

“Now, Midge, when I ask a question, I expect the truth, do you understand?” asked Scorch and Midge nodded frightfully. “Good. What are you doing in my garden?”

“Um,” Midge shuffled nervously. “I was told to watch the house. A-and follow you if you left.”

“So spying,” Scorch glared.

Midge gulped. “I-I suppose.”

“Who told you to watch me, Midge?” Scorch said quietly, her voice as cold and hard as steel.

“It was Ghost, your grace!” Midge said immediately. “Please, don’t be upset with me! It was him!”

“I will feel how I please!” Scorch snapped, causing Midge to flinch and a spike of exhilaration to leap into Scorch’s belly. Stars, power felt good! “Did he say why he wanted you to watch me?”

“No,” Midge shook her head quickly. “Just that you were never to be alone! Please, I was just doing as I was told, if you must be angry, spare this humble servant!” She cowered, her tail tucked beneath her and her chin on the ground, eyes turned downward.

Scorch hummed thoughtfully. This wasn’t good. What was Ghost up to? Why was he sending cats to spy on her? Maybe he thought she was planning to make good on her promise to murder him. The idea gave her a laugh. Still, this was troublesome. She needed to get away quickly and quietly and this was going to complicate things.

Mind turning quickly, she swished her tail and said, “I will consider it. Now be gone and do not let me catch you here again.”

“I-” Midge hesitated, body rigid. “I can’t, I-” She swallowed. “If Ghost finds out-”

“Forget about Ghost,” Scorch purred dangerously. “Worry about what I will do if you stay.” She wasn’t planning to hurt the cat much. The threat was probably enough to get what she wanted. Still, if a swipe over the ears was needed she wasn’t afraid to do so.

Midge swallowed again, the blood draining from her ears. “I- Please, your grace, I can’t-”

“Do not make me ask again,” Scorch hissed, stepping closer and Midge flinched away. She seemed about to open her mouth to protest again and Scorch had to admit her dedication was impressive but, before either of them could speak, another voice sounded from around the corner of the house.

“It’s alright, Midge,” said Ghost, stepping into view with a frown on his face. “You’re relieved of duty. You can go.”

Midge trembled. “Forgive me, Ghost, I-”

He raised his tail to stop her, “You’re fine. Go home.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she nodded and, with one last glance at Scorch, sprinted off down the side of the house and into the night.

Ghost turned to Scorch with a nonchalant expression and said, “I had a feeling you’d give her trouble.”

“Did you forget our last discussion, Ghost?” she growled, eyes sharp and furious.

He twitched one ear, unphased. “I kept my half of the deal. You’re the one who came back here.” She bristled, tail lashing, but she knew he was right. Besides, she wasn’t exactly interested in the dirty business of killing him, even if her life would be easier with him gone.

“Why are you sending little flies to spy on me?” she asked, changing subject.

“Razor’s orders, I’m afraid,” Ghost sighed. Scorch’s stomach twisted and her paw pads grew clammy. “Now that you have your own flap, Mystique is going to have a hard time keeping eyes on you and he doesn’t want you wandering off on your own.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying to feign innocence, but the tightness of her throat betrayed her. “Doesn’t he trust me?”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “No. He’s still pretty sure you tried to run off on him. It’s going to take some convincing if you want back into his good graces.” Scorch felt sick. She knew what kind of “convincing” he would want. She had to leave tonight.

“I’m going back,” Scorch declared, “and you’re going to let me.”

“Now, why would I do that?” he asked, frowning deeper. That was a good question.

“Because,” she said, the words coming to her tongue a second before she could really think them through, “I can convince your Smokyrose to leave. I can keep her and your kittens safe.” That was a stretch. She didn’t even know if that was something he actually wanted. He had seemed to care when she had spoken to him last but she had no idea what would have changed to make him worry for this litter over the dozens of others.

It seemed she had chosen well. His frown changed from an unimpressed sort of scowl to a tight-lipped, furrowed-browed look of concern. “You really think so?”

Scorch couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You really care about them, don’t you?! What’s so different? What makes this girl so special?”

The scowl returned. “I don’t know… I’m getting older. I’m getting tired of coming home to an empty den.” He sat down with a thump, looking askance.

Scorch shook her head. “I think you just liked that she made you feel like you weren’t a scumbag.” She realized, terrifyingly, she was speaking from experience. “There was something fun in pretending you were the cat she thought you were, wasn’t there?”

“Maybe,” his tail started to twitch irritably and he fixed her with a firm glare. “Answer the damn question, Scorch. Do you really think you can keep them safe?”

“I do,” she lied seamlessly. She hadn’t had much luck in convincing Goldenstar yet but maybe a few weeks dealing with Razor had softened her up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She held Ghost’s gaze as he thought. The silence dragged on for a few painfully long seconds as the cold stung her ears. Eventually, Ghost shook his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Cats will know that I saw you tonight. If you go missing…”

“You coward,” she spat, spine arching upward. “You have the chance to do something right for once and you’re going to throw it away-”

“Listen here-”

“- to save your own skin!”

“You’re one to talk!” Ghost snarled, rising to his feet again. Scorch bristled and bared her teeth. Maybe she would kill him. Goldenstar had taught her enough, there was a chance she could hold her own in a fight against an old cat like Ghost. If she couldn’t… well that would be a whole other problem. If she did something so rash there would be no pretending when Razor came to call. Her excuses would disappear like the fog from her lips and leave her defenseless. The guard on her house would only increase. She would never escape. Her blood was pounding in her ears, it took everything she had to focus on what Ghost was saying.

“All you ever do is think about your own skin!” he continued. “You say what you need to and nothing more! How do I know you would even keep your promise? I mean, you’re just as likely to run off in the opposite direction!”

“Like you’re any better,” she laughed harshly. “You sit back and you do what you’re told like a good little boy because if you do you get your pick of the food and the females and your tiny little brain can’t think to want for anything more than that!”

“I take care of people!” he hissed. “I have cats who need me! You have no one!”

Scorch’s ears pressed back against her head. She knew he was right. As much as the little voice in the back of her head tried to argue, she was utterly alone and always had been. How could he ever understand what it was like walking in her pawsteps? She felt tears starting to prick at her eyes and that only made her angrier. She opened her mouth with a cutting retort but stopped at the sound of a jingling bell and the rattling of the back fence as Mystique leapt from her garden and into Scorch’s.

“What’s going on here?” she called. Scorch immediately turned to her and started to sob. At least she could make the tears useful.

“Mystique!” she wailed, retreating in on herself. Just as expected, her big blue bodyguard bounded swiftly to her side.

“I heard shouting,” she said as Scorch pressed her face into her thick chest fur, “what’s going on?” She looked at Ghost and her eyes narrowed. Ghost’s mouth hung open. This situation did not look good and he knew it. Scorch smirked at him with one eye as she continued to sniffle. Seeing that, his eyes flashed with anger.

“Scorch and I were just having a discussion, that’s all,” he said carefully.

Scorch shook her head and pouted. “He was threatening me,” she said.

“I was not!” he hissed, backing up a step.

“He was!” she said, sitting back and sniffling. “He said I have to owe him favors if I want to go out at night!” Ghost swallowed and took another step back. A low growl rumbled in Mystique’s chest.

“Ghost…” she said dangerously and Scorch could see the fear in his eyes. It tasted rich and just, like prey blood on her tongue.

“Mystique- Your grace,” he said, ducking a bit into a bow. “I can assure you I said no such thing. I was simply informing her of the arrangement we discussed earlier.” Scorch huffed bitterly and leaned her head on Mystique’s shoulder.

“I thought we agreed female guards only,” said Mystique. Razor’s idea, certainly, Scorch thought. He didn’t want the guards to be rivals for her affections.

“We did, your grace,” he said. “I was supervising the guard to make sure nothing went wrong. When Scorch dismissed her I stepped in.”

“Hmf,” Scorch rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you picked a flighty guard on purpose. To get me alone.” Mystique glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow and she turned her expression back to a shaken one, giving an extra sniffle for emphasis.

“I’ll overlook your transgression tonight, Ghost,” said Mystique, turning back to him. She sounded more annoyed to be out of bed than she did angry with Ghost. “Don’t let me catch you here again, though, or my brother will hear about it.”

“Yes, your grace,” Ghost bowed his head respectfully but Scorch could see his eyes burning holes into her pelt. “Thank you.” Mystique flicked an ear and with one last glare, Ghost slank off into the night. Mystique sighed and let her posture relax.

“I’m lucky you came to rescue me,” Scorch said, batting her eyelashes and settling her fur over her shoulders like a proper lady. “He can be such a brute.”

“He didn’t actually say any of that stuff to you, did he,” said Mystique with an impassive expression. Scorch let out a breath as her words briefly failed her. She smiled, trying to find the right lie to get Mystique to believe her.

“No,” she eventually sighed in defeat. “But he did say plenty of other rude things.” She swished her tail over her paws and turned to study the way the slivered moon illuminated the shrubs in the garden.

“Any I need to know about?” Mystique asked. Scorch twitched an ear in her direction. She sounded genuinely concerned at least.

“No…” Scorch sighed. “It's… personal.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. As much as she hated to admit it, he had struck her close to home with his last barb. She was entirely and inarguably alone.

Mystique settled down beside her and wrapped her tail around Scorch’s back. “You guys used to be close right?”

Scorch sighed. “You could say that,” she shrugged, rolling her eyes to the heavens.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Scorch tilted her head to look at Mystique. The other cat had fixed her with a sort of tough love look, a look that said she was open but not vulnerable and ready to listen. How very tomboyish of her, Scorch thought. She considered saying no and she knew Mystique would leave it at that but she also knew it was only a matter of time until she satisfied her curiosity somewhere else. No, it was better for Scorch to take control of the narrative, give her some of the truth but not all of it.

“Well, you know how he is,” Scorch said. “Always moving from one conquest to the next.”

“I’ve heard,” Mystique grimaced a little. “Did you two ever…” She trailed off, looking unsure.

Scorch laughed. “No. No, he’s a simple boy, really. I knew he would get bored if he ever got what he wanted so I led him on. It wasn’t too hard.” She left out the fact that she had sought him out in the first place, that she had arranged a meeting that seemed like coincidence. She had known he was in charge and that had meant he had the power to keep her safe so long as she played it right. She’d walked a careful line between tantalizingly holding herself just out of reach and laying her affection on thick enough to keep him stuck on her. She’d played the jealous flirt, kept other girls at bay, made sure he had eyes only for her. She wondered if he hated her for that, if he was bitter over the months he’d gone without in the hopes of having her. Serves him right, she thought with a smirk, the old bastard.

“So what happened?” Mystique asked, drawing Scorch’s attention back to more unpleasant things.

“I met Razor,” she said simply.

“Ahh,” Mystique smiled sympathetically. “Let me guess, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She said it like it was a charming thing.

“You have no idea,” Scorch laughed but inside she felt a thousand miles away. She remembered the way he had pestered her, the way he’d shown up when she’d least expected him, the way he’d cornered her against a wall more than once and she’d had to find an excuse to leave. She remembered his gaze, his voice, his heat. “But he won me over, you know? I was the one who chose him.”

She remembered the night she’d decided to humor him. If Ghost had kept her safe, she’d reasoned, imagine the security that would come with being Razor’s girl! It had been a calculated gamble - if she could lead him on she would be untouchable - and she had bet on her talents with the opposite sex to keep her safe.

She remembered how foolish and arrogant she had been. She remembered how quickly she had realized her mistake. Ghost enjoyed the chase. He loved the word play and the fleeting touches and the game of it and so had she, to some extent. Razor didn’t play. He toyed. He insisted. And she had given him what he wanted with a smile and all the while she had been thinking, how do I get out of this?

And now she was trapped again. He had made sure of it. There was no way out of the neighborhood. No sure way, at least. Whatever escape attempt she made would be risky and the consequences of failure would be severe. Razor was the kind of tom who did things to show you he could, who took what he didn’t need just to make you feel small. If she tried to leave and failed…

“Are you alright?”

Scorch inhaled sharply and blinked away the tears starting to freeze on her cheeks. When had she started crying? Mystique leaned in worriedly. Scorch laughed in embarrassment, breath fogging heavily in front of her, and daintily wiped the droplets away.

“Oh, yes,” she lied with a smile. “Sorry, I just miss him.”

“Yeah,” Mystique’s worry softened into a frown. Scorch couldn’t tell if she was convinced or not. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be convincing or not. “Why don’t you go get some sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” nodded Scorch. They both stood, shaking out their fur against the cold.

“Hey, how about we go see Portia soon,” Mystique offered. “Get your Name Charm interpreted!”

“Oh,” Scorch blinked. “Yes, that's… that’s a lovely idea, Mystique.” She had entirely forgotten. There was a new name, her Folk’s name for her, hanging around her neck. There were cats who claimed they could tell what it was.

“Just pick the day,” Mystique said. “And I’m sorry about the night guards. Razor is worried about you, that’s all.”

“I understand,” said Scorch. “No apology necessary. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, she turned and slipped through her flap. The house was warm and pristine as ever. The air buzzed with the sounds of sleeping machinery. Scorch found her way to the mother Folk’s den and leapt onto the bed then settled down next to her warm face, curling her tail around herself tightly. The human stirred and sneezed. Groggily, she looked around and spotted Scorch through squinted eyes.

“Did I wake you?” Scorch mewed quietly. She felt soggy, like the tears she hadn’t cried were soaking into her being and weighing her down. All she wanted to do was sleep. The human grumbled something in her own tongue and rolled over, pulling Scorch down under the blankets and against her chest. Scorch purred sadly, butting up against the human’s chin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She snuggled in and tried to drift away. It was nice to imagine, at least for tonight, tucked carefully into such a warm and quiet nest next to her Folk, that she wasn’t alone.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Mystique #Ghost #Midge #TW SA Mention #Leafbare #Razor #swear warning #clangenrising

97 notes · View notes

newtonsheffield · 1 year

Note

Could we see Rugby Player Anthony and Pop Star Kate’s first date? Pretty please????

Anonymous asked: Loved the one shot. For science, can we see their first date?

Okay, let’s do it

“You’d tell me if you thought this was a bad idea right?”

Edwina sighed, “If I didn’t think this was a good idea, I wouldn’t have given him your phone number.”

“But like… I came down to London for this, and I don’t know where we’re going and what if he doesn’t actually like me?” Kate sighed, staring out the window, “What if he’s just… doing this for publicity or…?”

“Maybe, but there’s a reason you wanted to go out with him right? You must have seen something.”

Kate swallowed, remembering the earnestness in his eyes when he’d told her the story about his father, when he’d spoken about his little sister, “Yeah he was… kind of very sweet actually.”

“Okay, so, go out with him. If you don’t like him, don’t see him again.”

A knock sounded at the door and she heard Newton’s paws scrabbling in the hardwood. “I have to go, he’s here.”

“Have fun!”

Something nervous fluttered in her stomach as she made her way towards the door, Anthony’s outline visible through the glass. She took a deep breath before she opened it, and there he was.

He was wearing a soft sweater and his hair was parted a little less severely, still back from his forehead and a smile lit his face when he saw her, a bouquet of flowers held in his hands. “Hey.”

“Hi,” She nodded, her heart still fluttering in her chest. “Look at that, your smile’s just as cute out of the tux.”

Anthony flushed, ducking his head, “You’re so beautiful. I got you these.”

She took the flowers from him and her fingertips brushed his and she felt something. “Thanks, they’re beautiful.”

Anthony cleared his throat, “And this must be Newton.” He bent and scratched Newton’s ear who was wagging his tail, happy to have met a new friend.

“This is Newton, he’s ready to come out with us.”

Anthony grinned, “Great, should we go?” He held out his hand and Kate took it, snatching up Newton’s leash.

“Yeah let’s go.”

“So…” Kate said as she sat in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, Newton in the backseat. “Where exactly are we going?”

Anthony shrugged, “You’ll see.”

“You’re very mysterious.”

“A man of many surprises , I agree.” Anthony grinned, “You should see me in my kit shorts.”

“Because…” Kate trailed off, “Your legs are very surprising?”

“No, I’m just… really hot in shorts.”

Kate laughed, and she realised how much she liked it, how easy it was to laugh with him, even when she knew nothing about him, “I… might have googled you: And I agree.”

The car rolled to a stop and Anthony smiled, clapping his hands, “We’re here!”

Kate stared at the fence in a concrete wall. “Where’s here?”

Anthony sighed, “Okay, so I know you kind if spend your whole life on display, I do too but I’ve literally never seen people react the way they do when they see you, that’s insane. So I thought let’s go somewhere where we don’t have to worry about being seen.”

He took out a key from his pocket and opened the boot while Kate helped Newton down. “And… what are we…? Doing?”

Anthony reappeared with a wicker basket and a picnic blanket. “We’re having a picnic. My aunt lives in one of these houses, they have a private garden and I… sweet talked her into giving me the key for today with my very romantic notion.”

Kate’s heart hammered in her chest and that lump in her throat was back as she stared at him, Newton straining for the Frisbee Anthony had in his hand.

Anthony’s face fell, “Sorry, is this…? Is this stupid? Do you want to just go to dinner instead?” He was panicking, Kate could tell, “I… my brother’s a chef, he could get us a table at his restaurant for lunch. I’m sorry, this was-”

Kate stepped forward and she let her hand wrap around the front of his sweater, tugging him forward until their lips met. It was chaste, maybe the most chaste kiss she’d ever shared with anyone but she felt it. From the flutter in her stomach right down to her toes.

Anthony looked a little dazed when she pulled back, his lips still puckered as he swayed, “I think you’re supposed to wait until after the date to do that.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, I loiter on your porch and try not to make it obvious that I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment we met.”

Kate clicked her tongue, “Sorry I ruined the moment.”

“We can do it again then.” Anthony bent handing the frisbee out to Newton. “Now, let’s go have this date.”

She knew he’d been joking, about her falling in love with him on their first date. She knew that. But it sure felt like falling in love sat on a picnic blanket in a private garden with Newton sprinting after a frisbee and his arm around her waist. And when she sat down at the piano that night the words came to her so easily.

With the sun in your hair and the dreams of a boy in your eyes

I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so free

Sat on a picnic blanket with you, your hand holding mine

Anthony

Anthony is the first single off the album she releases the next year, it’s the only song she’s ever confirmed is written about anyone specifically and it’s Anthony’s favourite song.

#blushing all the way home #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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writinf · 2 months

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A baby fox runs through my back garden - across the sunlit grass - back to his mother. The vixen stood there, half concealed in the bushes that line the bottom of the old fence at the back.

Her eyes are fixed on me, or they appear to be, I'm just washing my dishes, watching her through the window. I was never sure if animals were able to see me through a window, fish seemed to worry when you put your face right up to the glass but birds didn't care, it felt like the fox could see me, that her eyes would follow me if I moved, I don't move though, I don't want to scare them away, besides, I have more dishes to wash.

I remembered when this mother had been a baby fox as well, I remembered seeing her mother in my garden at night sometimes, feeling watched in the same way then as now. It felt like there was an understanding, her mother had never been bothered in my garden, and so brought her kit along, and she had never been bothered here so neither would her baby. But she would watch, always watch, the understanding was not trust, this place was not safe to her (nowhere was), just safer.

But it was safe to him, the kit tripped on his way to reach her, and took the opportunity to spend a few more seconds joyfully rolling around in the grass. It was safe to him, not because of me or any understanding, but because of her. Because she would watch, always watch.

#bwheeh tried to write something a bit less dialoguey #not sure about it but whatevers #need to get better at studf

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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This is a very belated birthday drabble for the wonderful @unclewaynemunson, your Pat a Mat AU is ready, Anna! I hope you enjoy the ridiculousness just as much as I have.

One would think that once all of the Upside Down bullshit is done, Vecna buried, all of them alive, healed and with enough hush money from the government to last a lifetime, that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler would settle down, find some quiet comfort in their potential careers and each other. There would be pleasant dinners, quiet conversations and peace they haven't known for a while.

One would think that. But that one wouldn't probably be familiar with their romantic partners, Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley.

See, Steve and Nancy come from picture perfect households. Eddie and Robin don't. So where Steve and Nancy have a certain sense of what should be done and how it should be done, Eddie and Robin have a) enthusiasm, b) creativity, and c) terrifying amounts of energy.

Which is probably why Steve and Nancy are here, sitting on a picnic blanket with a bottle of wine between them and two first aid kits ready. They are watching Robin and Eddie who took to gardening and are now doing their absolute best to uplift their garden to new aesthetic heights.

That's a lie. This isn't gardening, this is an Indiana plant massacre with garden shears.

"So now you cut off the top and it will bear the perfect resemblance to our beloved dingus!" announces Robin and slices off way too much of the bush. The poor thing looks almost dead.

Nancy leans towards Steve and whisper-asks why the two decided to create a bush statue of Steve between the two gates leading to their houses, but Steve doesn't have an answer. He just downs his glass of wine and watches the tragedy unfold.

It's always like this. Robin and Eddie come up with a home improvement project, get very creative and then Nancy drives them to the hospital while Steve and Wayne clean up their mess. It's lucky Nancy and Steve love them do much.

When a new half-secluded neighborhood was built in Hawkins, the four of them thought it was perfect. Two small and adjacent houses, two gardens that they could connect by tearing down the fence. No one to judge them for being in same-sex relationships, no one to stare into their windows. The expectation was that Steve would spend lots of time with Robin, the two taking turns using their single shared brain cell, but instead, they got...this.

In the last year, Eddie and Robin's project list included, but wasn't limited to:

A theoretically wonderful invention of an alarm clock that would open the window once it started ringing, letting in fresh air and sunlight. Nancy and Steve weren't sure how it was supposed to work, the two inventors kept their progress a secret, but they saw the results, a broken window, a wall clock the size of the ones found in a train station, three broken broom handles and a ball of tangled wire.

An automated lawn mower. That one nearly worked. Nearly. Eddie tied the mower to a stake in the ground and Robin taped the starter so it moved on its own - a bit too well. The stake was no match for the mighty mowster (coined by Eddie) and the four of them ended up chasing the runaway machine throughout their street.

An effortless pancake flipper. It didn't matter how many times Steve repeated that he doesn't mind cooking, likes it in fact, Eddie wanted his boyfriend to be able to get comfortable and to sleep in because his Stevie deserved all the comfort and perfection he could get. Steve only learned about this experiment when he came home to a pan tied to a drill, spinning and splashing batter everywhere. Robin and Eddie were blindly walking around the kitchen walls, batter in their eyes and muttered reassurances that the pancake menace would have to run out of batter. Eventually.

Back to the present and half bottle of wine in, Eddie and Robin finally understand that no matter how much they cut, they're not getting Steve's likeness out of the suffering bush. Nancy and Steve exchange a well-practiced look, sensing a dip in the manic energy of their beloved partners. They slowly lure them in, Steve with cold beer and Nancy with a fancy cocktail that Steve pre-mixed. Among cut branches, dead leaves and quiet that wasn't fooling anyone, Nancy kisses Robin's cheek and says she's really sorry their plan didn't work out.

"Oh don't worry, Nance," Robin smiles and there's something unsettling about the look she shoots at Eddie. "We have a plan B."

The next morning, Wayne visits them and is stopped in his tracks by a...thing. Probably...originally, once upon a time, it must have been a bush. The bush now looks like all of Indiana's herbivores stopped by and munched it into an approximately human-like shape. Not very distinct, but there's no room for questioning as there's a huge Steve head with a Scoops Ahoy hat taped over the upper part of the bush.

Half a year ago, Wayne would have been concerned. Now he's just mildly amused.

He makes his way to the Munson-Harrington house and gets a cup of coffee from Steve while Eddie's gentle snoring echoes from the bedroom. "So..." he says, "No loss of blood or limbs this time?"

And Steve, bless his heart, only snorts and pours himself the rest of the kettle. "That's what makes the thing outside almost bearable. It's so ugly but they were so happy when they managed to get the tape right, I just...I can't take it down."

Wayne nods, sipping from his mug. He too would do almost anything to keep his nephew happy.

But if he happens to accidentally knock into the bush, entangle himself in the tape and has to destroy the Steve Bushington in the process...it's definitely just an accident.

#fruity four #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #ronance drabble #stranger things #stranger things drabble

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itseasytoremember · 2 months

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Today I saved two cardinals lives after they got caught in someone's garden bird netting and honestly the amount of coincidences that needed to happen for me to end up there is insane.

1. It rained so hard that the barbershop lost power so we went home early, usually I'd be working

2. My dad needed a hand at his house because he also lost power, usually I wouldn't be in the neighborhood

3. There was no parking in the front so I had to park in the back in a laneway, I haven't parked back there since I lived at home

4. The neighbors fence had blown open from the storm allowing me to see the birds caught in the netting from the laneway, usually it's closed

5. They were fucking cardinals, I honestly don't know if I would have noticed them at all if they weren't such a vibrant colour, especially because one of them was so badly caught it couldn't move.

6. I had fucking emergency safety scissors on me because i had them in the first aid kit and forgot them in my work pants. Like if I didn't have literal medical grade emergency scissors I don't know if I would have been able to help get the birds out.

I don't know if I necessarily believe in a higher power, but those birds definitely should

#post #personal #animal harm tw #they were both fine no cuts just very tired #the second one i thought was dead and when i got rhe last of the netting off her neck she hopped into my palm and bowed before flying away #and i got back in my car and fully cried from just the extreme emotional rollercoaster

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losieee · 1 year

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Queen Of Hearts Garden

Room - Outdoors

Fenced in garden

10x15

147,188 §

No CC

Expansion Packs: Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work

Game Packs: Werewolves, Realm Of Magic, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Vampires, Dine Out, Outdoor Retreat

Stuff Packs: Romantic Garden

Kits: Everyday Clutter

Download | Gallery ID: Losieee

RESHADE

@mmfinds @maxismatchccworld @publicvanillabuilds @coffee-houses-finds

If you use my builds and upload screenshots, videos, edits or anyhting else, please @ me! I love to see them!

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electricfencesblog · 2 months

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Cultivating Charm and Protection: A Guide to Garden Fence Kits

Your garden is a refuge, a sanctuary for relaxation and rejuvenation. But sometimes, that sanctuary needs a little shield. Whether you're keeping playful pups out of prize-winning petunias or deterring determined deer from your delicious dahlias, a well-chosen fence can make all the difference.

Garden fence kits offer a convenient and cost-effective solution for creating a beautiful and functional barrier around your green haven. This guide explores the world of garden fence kits, helping you navigate material options, styles, and features to find the perfect fit for your needs.

Why Choose a Garden Fence Kit?

There are numerous reasons why garden fence kits stand out as a compelling choice:

Convenience: Pre-cut materials and included hardware take the guesswork out of fence construction.

Cost-Effectiveness: Kits often offer better value compared to buying individual components.

Variety: From classic picket fences to rustic split rail, kits come in diverse styles to complement your garden aesthetic.

Quick Installation: Kits generally require less time and expertise to install than building a fence from scratch.

Durability: Many kits use high-quality materials built to withstand the elements.

Unveiling the Material Menagerie: Popular Fence Kit Options

When selecting a garden fence kit, the material is a crucial consideration. Each option boasts unique pros and cons:

Wood: A timeless classic, wood fences exude warmth and natural beauty. However, they require regular maintenance like staining or painting to maintain their lifespan. Popular wood types include cedar, redwood, and pressure-treated pine.

Vinyl: Known for its low-maintenance appeal, vinyl offers weather resistance and durability. It comes in various colors and styles, mimicking wood's look without the upkeep. However, vinyl can be susceptible to warping in extreme heat.

Metal: Wrought iron or aluminum fences provide a sturdy and elegant option. They require minimal upkeep but might not blend seamlessly with all garden styles.

WPC (Wood Plastic Composite): A composite material combining wood and plastic, WPC offers durability, low maintenance, and a natural wood look. While cost-effective, it might lack the unique charm of genuine wood.

Mesh: Perfect for animal deterrence, mesh fencing is functional and affordable. However, it may not provide much aesthetic appeal.

Stepping into Style: Selecting the Perfect Fence Kit for Your Garden

Beyond material, style plays a significant role in selecting the perfect fence kit. Here are some popular styles to consider:

Picket Fence: The quintessential white picket fence evokes nostalgia and charm. It's perfect for creating a defined border around flower beds or vegetable gardens.

Split Rail: Split rail fences, made from split logs, offer a rustic and natural look. They're ideal for sprawling gardens with a country aesthetic.

Lattice Fence: Offering a touch of airiness and vertical support for climbing plants, lattice fences are perfect for creating a defined boundary while allowing light and air to pass through.

Privacy Fence: If seclusion is your goal, a privacy fence delivers. Solid wood or vinyl planks provide a visual barrier, ideal for patios or areas where you desire a more intimate space.

Modular Fence: Some kits offer modular fence panels, allowing for customization in terms of height, and length, and even creating curves or angles to fit your garden layout.

Unveiling the Features: What to Look for in a Garden Fence Kit

While material and style are key, other features in a garden fence kit deserve consideration:

Height: Think about the purpose of your fence. A low decorative border might only need 2-3 feet, whereas a deterrent for larger animals might require a taller fence (4-6 feet).

Post Options: Concrete footings are strong but require digging. Spike or post sleeves offer easier installation but might not be suitable for all soil types or high-wind areas.

Gate Inclusion: Does your fence layout require a gate for access? Ensure the kit includes a gate or offers the option to purchase one separately.

Hardware: Check if the kit includes all necessary screws, nails, brackets, and any other hardware required for installation.

Building Your Eden: Tips for Installing a Garden Fence Kit

Once you've chosen the perfect kit, here are some tips for a smooth installation process:

Planning is Key: Mark the fence line and ensure proper post spacing according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Gather your Tools: Have a level, tape measure, hammer, drill, saw, and any other tools recommended in the kit instructions readily available.

Enlist a Helper: Having an extra pair of hands can be a big help, especially when setting posts or attaching fence panels.

#Garden Fence Kits

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bleedingichorhearts · 7 months

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𝕬𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 IV

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: The Custodes just watching the cat get more attention than him.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams , @egrets-not-regrets.

𝕬𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 V

TW // Stalking.

Sitting outside in Marie’s backyard. I tested my shoulder out, taking it out of the cast, and moved my arms slowly around in circles. My nose scrunching up in the sting of soreness. Heating up my shoulder every time I moved my arm upwards. I even had to wait a few seconds to continue and fully complete the rotation.

If only that damned ceiling didn’t crumble beneath my feet, I wouldn’t have fallen on that rusty, steel pole. I wouldn’t be having this problem either.

That Journalist can have a bad day too for making me throw him around while wounded, but he also took an ungodly amount of pictures of me from when I crossed a road to end up in Marie’s backyard. No doubt, going to try and publish that somewhere for some big money for whatever “my story” is worth.

“It looks like you’re doing better.” The wobbly voice of Marie observed, an orange cat meowing at her feet.

Turing my head to look at her. She had a cup of tea in her hand, occasionally taking sips out of it. The smell of dried fruit wafting from the cup. Another tea that I recognized as hibiscus tea.

I bowed my head to her in a ‘good morning,’ relaxing my shoulder for a moment. Picking up my own drink with my other arm from the small, circular glass table off to my side that was full of tiny, potted plants.

“If you like, I would need some help repotting some plants.” Marie offered a daily task, taking another sip from her tea cup. The cat jumping up onto my lap.

I nodded again, sipping my own drink, taking that task because it would mean free cookies. Most of the time anyway. If she didn’t make cookies, or any desert she baked, I was repaying her kindness with anything she needed to get done for the day. Which wasn’t much, honestly.

The daily things she mostly does is tend to her hoard of cats, and her jungle rooms of plants. Both feeding them, and giving them water. Then she goes and puts a tea kettle on the stove so she could have her morning tea.

Her afternoons consisted of a lunch break, and a well deserved nap with the cats in the sunroom with some more tea afterwards, and her nights are tame as she usually just watches an old black, and white film, or reads her old books.

It’s been what? Only three days, and I already know what her daily routine is.

“Hello there, Miss. Garner!” An older man yelled out a greeting. Looking over he had to be in his 60s? 70s? Brown, frizzled hair turning gray with a big, nicely trimmed beard. He was on the more heavyset side of a man with an oval body shape, his body leaning over the white fence Marie had put up to keep the neighbors, and critters out of her “garden palace.” She had named her garden.

“Mr. Benton, good morning.” Marie greeted back, not sounding very thrilled by his appearance.

Looking between the two. They clearly had their differences. Marie was the gardener that loved her fresh fruits, and vegetables, floral smell, and a lover of cats. While Mr. Benton was the mechanic type, lover of tinkering, fixing things, smelling like grease, and oil, and the owner of a wiener dog.

“Daw, don’t be like that Miss. Garner! I was only trying to be nice.” He replied, taking off his blue cap that showed a bald spot on his head. “Say, is your little lady willing to help me for a moment?”

I could-

“Absolutely not! Not with all that filth!” Marie exclaimed, surprising me on how fast she moved to put her tea cup down on the glass table, her hands now on her hips.

“Now, hold on there. It ain’t all filth.” Mr. Benton responded, putting his cap back on his head. Shaking a finger at Marie.

“You got old, rusting cars in your backyard, you make these god awful noises at night when you're in your garage, tools laying about everywhere, don’t make me list any more mister!” Marie listed off, pointing her finger at the man who just looked dazed?

I sipped on my drink, petting the orange cat in my lap as I watched the two argue with each other. Marie spitting details to complain about while Mr. Benton spoke of anything that would get her riled up, purposely.

“Oh! Bugger off will yeah?!” Marie yelled, waving off the old man, turning back to her much needed tea.

“Oh, you love it Miss. Garner!” Mr. Benton laughed, belly shaking with him.

“Just- shoo! Go away!” Marie waved him off again. A tint of pink on her cheeks as she took another sip of her tea to cover it up.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you be.” He sighed, finger coming up to his face to get rid of a tear, then waved. “Till next time lady’s!”

Giving him my own little wave, cat mowing in disapproval of the act of waving. I quickly nudged my foot at Marie.

“What?” She asked, still using the tea cup to cover her blush. I gave her an ‘really’ look, eyebrow raising up at her.

“Don’t give me that look!” She groaned, turning her head away. New cherry red blush coating her cheeks.

I see what’s going on here; don’t think I don’t.

“Stop giving me that look!” Marie exclaimed again, desperately trying to hide away from my gaze.

I shook my head at her, scratching the cat behind its ear as I bumped her ankle softly with my shoe again.

“Are you planning to go somewhere?” She suddenly asked, switching the topic. Avoiding the previous topic, for now.

I nodded, my eye trailing over the tree line at the back of the yard. The same heavy, tingling coming back; feeling stronger with each second I stared.

“Do you need anything?” She questioned, finally putting the cup down from her lips. Most likely have drank all of the tea, and calmed down her burning cheeks.

I shook my head ‘no.’ Spotting a flash of gold before it stilled. A blue visor glowing from a darkened area of the tree line. A slight gold shining off of the armored being.

I knew it. The Custodes had followed me here, and this means they must know, that I know. Though, didn’t it have a red visor before? Not blue? Less gold too?

Oh, I was definitely planning on going somewhere now. I wasn’t going to be in the presence of an Custodes. Much less of an Astartes.

#warhammer 40k #space marine #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #adeptus custodes

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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

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Mastermind

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @rowanaelinn!!

I’m posting this oneshot at midnight in your time zone if my math is right. I was between childhood friends to lovers and exes to lovers, but ended up going for this secret, cuter third thing. However you wanna call it, it’s a TS-inspired fluff fest.

Love you, Ezzy. I hope you have the best day today ❤️

Warnings: language

Words: 6k

14 YEARS BEFORE

“They’re idiots,” her boyfriend said with all the sureness a second-grader could have.

Aelin groaned. “I told my mom these glasses are stupid, but she won’t listen.”

“I know you can’t see it because the doctor said you’re blind now, but you still look very pretty, Fireheart.”

“I’m not blind!” Aelin whined.

Rowan squinted his eyes at her, not convinced of that yet.

When the school bus stopped and they stepped out, her body finally relaxed. She took a deep breath. That smelly bus full of mean kids had nothing on her neighborhood’s main street, especially when the first thing that hit her senses was coming from Emrys’, her favorite bakery.

Getting home was Aelin’s favorite part of school, but only because she did it with Rowan. She couldn’t stop thinking about today, the embarrassment she felt after the other kids wouldn’t let her play with them because she wouldn’t see the ball. The worst part is, Aelin knew her new glasses were just one of many excuses they had to not let her play.

She sighed, and Rowan squeezed her hand like he knew what she was thinking. After that, he bought her a Kit Kat bar with the pocket money his dad gives him, because he thought he knew how Aelin felt. He didn’t. Rowan said he didn’t want to play with kids who didn’t want to play with Aelin as well, but he only had a few friends because he wanted to.

Their parents were always telling them to use bikes on this stretch, but Aelin and Rowan actually walked on a turtle’s pace so they could spend more time together. Besides, she loved her neighborhood. She liked stopping to pet the neighbors’ dogs through the fences and jumping over the cracks of the sidewalk with Rowan.

Her dad had been telling her all about Doranelle City and how she’d love it there, but Aelin didn’t want to hear it. She loved Mistward, even if it was small and the kids at school didn’t like her. She had Rowan, and she had Emrys’ chocolate cake. It was more than enough.

“Wait here,” he said when they passed by his house.

”Aren’t you going to drop Aelin off, sweetie?” His mother called while she worked on her garden, and turned to Aelin. “I like your glasses. You look great in purple.”

Aelin hoped she wasn’t blushing. Even if Rowan’s mom didn’t approve of their relationship, she was always nice to Aelin.

It was their thing. Aelin walked Rowan home because his house was close to the bus stop, then he walked her home because he wanted to drop her off safely. Only after that he’d walk back to his house, alone this time.

“I’m just going to drop my backpack inside,” he explained.

Mrs. Whitethorn had the most beautiful garden in this block, it was her baby. It had roses and a few other flowers Aelin didn’t know the name of, but the kingsflower was her favorite.

“ROWAN!” Rory called, making Aelin’s eyes go wide and look for her boyfriend.

Before she knew it, he pulled her and they both ran off. Aelin’s heartbeat was as fast as her breathing, but Rowan didn’t let go of her hand as they ran away from his home. He made a stop a little after they turned around the corner, both of them panting and staring at each other with widened eyes.

“What did you do?”

With a sheepish smile, Rowan showed a big, blooming kingsflower he picked from his mom’s garden.

Aelin’s eyes were big with surprise, but then she smiled at him bigger than when she got chocolate cake. “For me?” She beamed, laughing.

Rowan handed over the flower, wearing the boyfriend smile he used just with her.

“I wish I was an octopus, that way I could give you seven flowers.”

“You mean eight.”

Rowan shook his head. “I‘d still need one to hold your hand while we run.”

Aelin’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, but she wouldn’t stop even after she got home.

“Do you think your mom will be convinced after that?”

Rowan shook his head. “She still asks me to call you my best friend.”

“Did you tell her we hold hands and share our lunch?”

”I did. She told me dating takes a lot of responsibility and other things kids can’t do.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “I think she means kissing.”

“Ew.” Rowan grimaced. “We don’t need that.” He had that little frown that gave away he was thinking hard on something, then sighed. “The couples always kiss on their wedding day, though. I guess I can kiss you if it means we’ll be married when we’re eighteen.”

“Come on, Buzzard.” She tugged on his hand, resuming their walk. “We’ll figure out the grown-up stuff when we grow up.”

Rowan didn’t press on the subject after that, but she knew he was still thinking about it. It was okay, she thought while twirling the kingsflower between her fingers.

Aelin planned the video game they’d play this weekend, Rowan planned the bouncy castle they’d live in instead of a brick house, ten years from now. It was how they worked.

If every day was a day with Rowan, she’d be alright.

CURRENT TIME

PERMISSION DENIED, said the stamp in very red, bold and capitalized letters over Aelin’s request to do part of her research in a rural school near Doranelle City.

Aelin’s furious footsteps clanked against the Depart of Psychology’s tiles as loud as if she were wearing high heels. She knew better than to wear that, though, especially with how many stairs she had to climb to get to the lecture hall.

What was the point of being the psychology department’s nepo baby if she couldn’t even do her research? And was denied by Murtaugh Allsbrook, out of all her dad’s friends.

It was so simple. Aelin just needed permission to do her research at the school Murtaugh worked at, and she didn’t even know that man was capable of saying the word no.

Apparently, he is.

Aelin knocked on her dad’s office, but didn’t wait for his reply to enter. He looked exactly the same as every other day, leaning on that huge, messy wooden desk.

“Fireheart,” Rhoe acknowledged her without taking his eyes off the paper he was grading.

“You didn’t give Murtaugh a heads up about me filing the request?”

“I thought you didn’t want special treatment.” Her dad replied in a quiet tone.

”But you do that to every one of your students!”

Rhoe finally glued his eyes off the paper, looking deep into her eyes with raised eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t want to be advised by me.”

Aelin groaned, placing that damned paper into his desk. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry, Fireheart.” Her father rubbed his face with both hands. “I guess I’m a little on edge today. I’ll see if any of my students can spot if there’s anything wrong with your papers, then I’ll call Murtaugh.”

Aelin sat in front of him, finally relaxing. “Thanks, Dad.”

Rhoe got up, squeezed her shoulder and headed for his lab down the hall.

She took in his office while waiting. Either as a daughter or as a student, Aelin was very familiar with those wooden floors and lavender essential oil her dad diffused here to help soothing anxious grad students. Now that Aelin was one, she realized it didn’t do much.

“Hi, Dr. Galathynius asked me—“

Her dad’s advisee stopped mid-sentence, and Aelin knew why the second she saw him.

This version of him didn’t resemble the one in her childhood memories at all, but Aelin could recognize those deep pine-green eyes anywhere.

It was like something in her chest loosened to give room for her heart to go wild. No thoughts, the realization that Rowan Whitethorn was standing in front of her after more than a decade, and the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach that came with it.

“Aelin,” he said under his breath, as if her childhood nickname had slipped out of his conscience. His body was completely frozen, eyes wide.

At that point, it wasn’t a matter of if Aelin cared or not. It was a reflex. She got up from her chair and ran Rowan’s way as fast as she could, embracing him in a clumsy, but tight hug. It took a beat for his brain to process all that information and make him hug her back, but he did. So tight he squeezed her ribs a little, but it was alright. Aelin smiled with her head resting on his collarbone, feeling his frenzied pulse against her cheek.

“What are you doing here in Doranelle?” She asked in a quiet, wondrous tone.

He put some distance between them, still holding both of her shoulders and taking her in. “I did tell you I’d move here too.”

Aelin grinned, feeling the leap her heart did at that memory. Rowan’s words when she told him her father got a job on the other side of the country, and she’d be doing 3rd grade there. “Don’t worry, Fireheart. I’ll go with you.”

Swallowing those feelings down, Aelin playfully slapped on his arm. “How long have you been working with my dad? Why didn’t you reach out to me?”

“Just a few weeks, and—“ Rowan rubbed the sting off from his bicep. His insanely large bicep. Aelin trained her eyes back to his face. “It took me a while to decide on an advisor, but your father took me under his wing the second he saw me. And about reaching out…” he did that thing where he just stared at her again, as if he couldn’t believe she was there. “We stayed out of touch for so long, I didn’t want to presume.”

“Presume?” Aelin asked in an outraged, high-pitched tone. “Rowan Whitethorn, you’re my favorite ex.”

“Yeah?” He asked and blinked a few times, looking flabbergasted.

She shook her head slowly, clicking her tongue. “You should’ve seen the dipshits I dated in high school.”

“I-“ He looked at his watch and frowned. “I wish I could invite you for something longer than coffee, but I have Dr. Lochan’s class in an hour.”

“So do I,” she lied. That class couldn’t be further from Aelin’s dissertation, but she needed more time with him.

Rowan was here. She could barely believe it.

“Really?” He scratched his strong, stubbly, mouth-watering jaw. “I haven’t seen you there.”

“Did you even pay attention to your classmates?”

He looked down, a small smile on his lips. “Busted.” He looked back at her. “Do you want to go now and we’ll grab coffee there? Do you need a ride?”

”Sure. I’m trying to take the bus more. Carbon monoxide and all.” Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie. Aelin did care about carbon monoxide. Just not enough to get a crowded, smelly bus first thing in the morning.

Rowan jerked his head towards the door. “Come on, then. I parked close today.”

Dr. Lochan taught at the philosophy building, which was a bit far from theirs. His classes were attended by grad students of the whole humanities field, and rumor has it the cafeteria there is a lot better than the one in the psychology building. Aelin wouldn’t know, but she was supposed to.

As soon as they got in the car, she took her lipstick and carefully tinted her cupid’s bow and bottom lip with pink, drawing Rowan’s attention to her lips. She couldn’t look back at him because it’d be too obvious to spot what she was doing, but Aelin still felt his gaze burning into her skin.

“You ready?” He asked with firm eye contact the second she took her eyes off the mirror.

She nodded, giving him a bashful smile, and Rowan turned on the engine.

Aelin twirled her lipstick between her fingers, considering her next move.

Her favorite person from childhood, the one she had the fondest memories with, was right there. And he looked hot like hell.

Yes, Aelin knew she was being impulsive, but just as much as she wanted to rekindle something right now.

When Rowan was focused on that uni street, she sneaked her tube of lipstick underneath her leg, so it’d look as if she lost it there.

Was leaving something in a guy’s car the oldest trick in the book? Absolutely, but it was as old as it was effective.

Checkmate, she couldn’t lose.

˜˜

Her class—that wasn’t her class at all—had ended hours ago, but Aelin had so much to do she didn’t even notice how time flew by.

Rowan insisted on giving her a ride home after the lecture ended, which meant she had to uber back to the psychology department to get her car. Now that Aelin had her comfy pajamas on and pizza, she was writing Dr. Lochan a formal email, asking to audit his class this semester.

She knew she should’ve been working on her denied application now, but Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about her long lost love from when she was a kid.

Every time she thought of Rowan—which became less frequent each year, but she still did—she remembered him fondly, especially how sweet he was with her.

Never, during all these years, she considered how hulky and insanely hot he’d become.

Like he was being summoned by her thoughts, her phone pinged.

Unknown: Hi. It’s Rowan

Unknown: Rowan Whitethorn. Your favorite ex.

Unknown: Did you forget lipstick in my car?

Aelin put her laptop aside, snuggling in her bed to give her phone full attention now. Smiling, she saved his contact the same way she would’ve done 14 years ago.

Seeing him reach out so fast after they exchanged numbers brought back that funny feeling in her insides, but she still had to calculate her next steps. Aelin squinted at her phone with an alert gaze.

Leaving the lipstick in his car had three goals: make him text her, find out if he’s single by how sure he is about the lipstick being hers, and get invited to a date so he could return it. A question vague like this one did nothing to the second step of this mission.

Aelin: hey!

Aelin: did i?

Aelin: i haven’t noticed

She would rather ignore her fast and erratic heartbeat as she waited for him to finish typing.

Buzzard: It belongs either to you or my bro Lorcan.

Aelin used the little breath she still had to let out a loud, maniacal laugh. No girlfriend, then. She could already listen to the sound of the dominoes cascading in a line.

It was a bold move to leave one of her favorite lipsticks in his car, but Rowan needed to catch up on her tastes. Their wedding was four years too late, she needed to act.

Aelin: there *is* a missing pink lipstick from my purse.

Rowan: Don’t worry, I’ll return it next class

Her shoulders slumped. No date invitation. She could work with that, though.

Before she could look for his social media, Aelin put a reminder on her phone to text him at the same time tomorrow. Time to start some classical conditioning.

˜˜

If it wasn’t for the silver-haired man by her side, Aelin would’ve spent this whole class reading fanfiction online. The class she wasn’t even supposed to attend, for starters.

Dr. Lochan sounded like a sleeping pill to her ears, and it didn’t help that Rowan was playing with the ends of her hair. The electric shock of his fingers against her strands made her shiver, but then the tingling sensation in the back of her neck was so relaxing it almost made her purr.

Her screen lighting up took her out of the sleep-inducing class and hair-caressing haze.

Dad: Did you fix your permission yet?

Aelin: rowan said he just diagnosed it

Aelin: we’ll sit to discuss what can be done later today

Dad: Do you think you can finish before Friday?

Dad: I'll pay Murtaugh a visit. I can hand him the file.

She considered this request, biting her lip. It was Tuesday today. If it took a whole week for Rowan to inspect it, it'd take longer to rewrite it. But then she thought of the very long drive she did to file these at the school Murtaugh worked for. Eh. Taking the risk was worth it.

Aelin: i’ll have it ready by thursday night

Dad: [thumbs up emoji]

When she put her phone down and inched closer to Rowan, he leaned his hand on the backrest of her chair. Aelin suppressed a smile.

“Do you think I can finish rewriting by Thursday?”

He nodded. “I didn’t see anything wrong with your application, actually. Coffee after class?”

“Sure.” Aelin was trying so hard to hide her smug smile.

So far, Operation Rowan was a success. By texting him every day at the same time, it didn’t take long for his brain to learn that as a conditioned response. On the fourth day, he was the one texting her at the time she was supposed to text him.

Aelin couldn’t be happier about her Psychology degree.

She didn’t find Rowan’s social media—she found out later he doesn’t have any, which is a huge green flag—but she did find his Spotify account. When she discovered which artists they liked in common, conversation flew.

After the class, they sat in that same cafeteria to discuss her application.

“I don’t understand why Mr. Allsbrook denied it.” Rowan looked absolutely delicious with those muscles stretching his white cotton shirt while he praised her work. “There isn’t a lot to change, but maybe you should detail more what you’ll be doing with the students for the research, since your work is so innovative.”

She smiled. “You mean experimental.”

“I mean groundbreaking.” Rowan leaned closer, studying her face as the corners of his lips slightly tugged up. ”Any questions?”

“Yes.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow, prompting her further. He was so fucking close, sitting on her side like that.

“Why are you staring at my lips?”

He wasn’t, but he was going to now.

Rowan’s eyes slowly slid from her eyes to her mouth. Back to her eyes. On her lips again. Her knees got weaker each motion, and it didn’t help that they were between his, under the table.

It was like the electricity between them burrowed under Aelin’s skin, waking up her heart that was now beating like a drum.

Rowan gently caressed her jaw. A question. A warning.

Her veins felt like wildfire, heating the air between them. Aelin leaned closer slowly, tilting her head up so they wouldn’t break eye contact until—

“ROWIE!”

Rowan jerked away from her, erasing the moment faster than it started. Aelin’s body felt hot as she looked around, wondering what had just happened.

A blonde man with a I would like to make a joke about philosophy, but I Kant t-shirt approached them, a huge smirk on his face.

“Fenrys.” Rowan’s greeting was almost a protest. “What are you doing here?”

He sat across from them. “Nothing as interesting as you.”

Rowan’s already flushed cheeks just turned a shade darker.

“Hello, gorgeous. Fenrys gave her a troublesome grin. “Since when do you hang out with that grump?”

“First grade.” Rowan narrowed his eyes at his friend, sliding a possessive hand across Aelin’s shoulders. She tried not to visibly swoon. “She taught me the L trick to tell left from right.”

“Oh, really?” Fenrys’ smile grew, and he didn’t seem to miss how Rowan was staking his claim with that arm around her. “Now I need to hear all his stories as a kid.”

“No, you don’t.” Rowan’s voice was so clipped Aelin held back a snort.

Fenrys eyes were gleaming as he smirked like the devil. “All of them.”

˜˜

She didn’t know for how long Aelin and Rowan were there just holding their breaths, waiting for other shoe to drop.

Murtaugh Allsbrook seemed very relaxed, though. Just slowly reading through all the applications and marking them with a PERMISSION GRANTED stamp with very blue, bold and capitalized letters, his signature by its side.

She could barely believe how easy this was.

When Rowan texted her this morning telling Rhoe had asked him to hand the documents at Murtaugh’s school, she was almost sure she’d be rejected again.

The person visiting would be a student, not the professor he’d known for years. He’d read her application again and say he couldn’t let her do research with his students. Aelin already knew she would have to fight for her dissertation, so she asked to come with Rowan.

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest when Murtaugh held her own application. He seemed to be reading faster than the other ones, though.

“I detailed the activities a little further this time.”

The man nodded. If he said something, she couldn’t hear it because of the increasingly loud rain outside.

“I guessed that was the reason why my application got rejected at first.”

“That’s right, dear.” The pitch of Murtaugh’s voice was slightly higher this time, and he closed the file before he could get halfway through it. He had barely read it. When Aelin opened her mouth to speak again, ready to defend her work, the sound of Murtaugh’s stamp stopped her.

PERMISSION GRANTED

Both Aelin and Rowan exchanged small, satisfied grins when the man wasn’t looking. She sat a little taller in her seat, feeling warmth spread through her chest. And not because of the lack of AC in this freaking school.

She could barely believe how easy it was this time. Her dad called in a favor, it was the only reason she got rejected and then accepted without Murtaugh even reading what she rewrote. Aelin would question her father later, now she just wanted to enjoy this moment.

After the man started some small talk with Aelin and Rowan—mostly about Rhoe and the projects some of his students would be working on in this school—and went through all the files, it was finally time to go home.

“You did great there.”

Aelin groaned. “He didn’t even read my adjustments.”

“Maybe he regretted rejecting you?”

She snorted, but it sounded bitter even to her ears. “Maybe he got a phone call from my dad.”

“I don’t doubt it, I’ve seen him doing that for other students.” Rowan squeezed her hand. “It’s not a bad thing, though.”

Chuckling, he slid that one hand around Aelin’s waist, tugging her closer.

Ever since meeting Rowan again, she realized her skin tingles everywhere he touches her. It was starting to become an issue, especially because it had been a few days since their almost kiss, and she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head.

Outside, Aelin realized the rain was a lot heavier than she predicted. She could hear it from Murtaugh’s office, but didn’t realize how aggressive it was outside.

“Come on.” Rowan tugged her hand. “My weather app says it can rain the whole day.“

Aelin sprinted in the rain towards his car, feeling her clothes progressively clinging onto her skin as the rain soaked her wet. Even then, Rowan followed her to open the passage door, running to the driver’s side only after she was inside and safe from Doranelle’s weather.

She tugged on Rowan’s hair and squeezed it to dry a little. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she mentioned his completely unnecessary act of chivalry. She could open her own door, especially in this pouring rain. Despite her own words, Aelin tried and failed to hide a silly smile.

Rowan just grinned and shook his head like a dog, sprinkling droplets of water across the car.

He turned the GPS on and started the drive back, but Aelin was wondering how long it’d take.

After leaving the city, Aelin and Rowan started on a road. A lot later, they entered a smaller road. After that, they entered something that was barely a road. The rural school she’d be collecting data on was a little after that. That’s how long their drive was about to be. Especially now, that Rowan was driving slower to be careful.

”Aelin, I—“ Rowan was squinting his eyes at the road before him. “I can’t see anything. Can you find somewhere we can pull over until the weather gets better?”

Which will take a long time to happen were the words he didn’t say.

When Aelin checked the map, she felt her muscles tighten. “There’s a hotel. It’s the closest place.”

Rowan nodded and asked for her to add it to the GPS on his car. If he had any thoughts or feelings about this, he didn’t show. It was late afternoon already, so it made sense to choose a hotel.

Trees blurring together as they passed by. The soft sound of her playlist, partially muffled by the rain. The car’s AC brushing against Aelin’s skin, giving her goosebumps. Because that was the reason this was happening, right? She had been planning to get together with Rowan, but there was no way staying with him at a hotel would make her limbs tingle like this, so fast after they reconnected.

He dropped her at the front door and went to park the car. The hotel looked nice enough, displaying simple, but comfortable-looking furniture and decorated with plastic kingsflower bouquets. They took her back to Rowan’s old garden, and the remainder of one of Aelin’s favorite childhood memories brought a smile to her face.

There were other people in the lobby who probably had the same idea as them, but she only stood in line at the front desk for a few minutes.

“I’d like to do a check-in.”

The woman nodded, but didn’t do so much as look at Aelin. “How many people, dear?”

“Two.”

She typed on her computer, nodding. “How many rooms?”

Aelin opened her mouth, then closed. She glanced at the fake bouquet of kingsflower, feeling her heartbeat in her throat.

“Just one room.”

The woman just chewed her gum harder as she typed more, but Aelin could barely breathe as she lied her way into Rowan’s bed.

Her gaze quickly swept the room until she found him leaning against a pillar while holding a bag. He gave her a small nod, and Aelin hoped the smile she gave him looked natural.

“There was only one bed,” Aelin blurted as soon as she approached him.

He blinked. “What?”

“Room,” she corrected herself and showed the key dangling from her finger. “There was only one room available.”

“Oh.” Rowan looked around, and his frown morphed into an eyebrow raise she couldn’t quite decipher. “Alright.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Rowan shrugged and guided her towards the room by placing a hand on her waist. Aelin hoped he didn’t notice the way she shivered. He continued, “Besides, there’s nothing we can do, right? There’s only one room, you said yourself.”

Their room was small, but it looked cozy with its white walls and wooden window. The rain was still pouring outside, but now it was more like a soothing background noise than a nuisance.

“Take this.” Rowan handed her some fresh clothes as he searched for something in his bag. “I think this is the only change of clothes I have, but you can take it.”

“Where did you take this from?”

It was a neatly folded green t-shirt and a pair of soft jeans. It smelled so fresh and detergent-like that Aelin sighed against it. Rowan was studying her, a small smile on his face. Shit. Did Aelin just smell his clothes in front of him?

“Sometimes I need to shower at the gym. Keeping a change of clothes in the car comes in handy.”

Nodding, Aelin unfolded Rowan’s gigantic shirt. It was very easy to picture him having to shower at the gym after spending too much time there, and just thinking of him like that made her blood boil.

“This shirt is bigger than some dresses I have. I can take this, and you’ll take the pants.”

Taking the bathroom first, she frowned at herself in the mirror. Aelin was covered until mid-thigh, which was alright, but damp hair and faded makeup weren’t her best look. Cleaning smudges of mascara from under her eyes with toilet paper was the best she could do to look fresh, though.

Rowan was sitting on the side of the bed, head tilted up as he supported himself with the heels of his hands. He was wearing nothing but jeans and the ridges and valleys of his abs.

Did her knees just get weak?

The air between them was taut as Rowan’s gaze kept darting between Aelin’s face and her—mostly—bare legs, almost as if he was fighting his eyes to stay up. She hasn’t been near as discreet about ogling him.

Aelin strolled his way and bumped their knees together, eyes somewhere between shy and mischievous.

Rowan toyed with the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tilted his head up to look her in the eye. “You’re quite the sight in my Levi’s, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Aelin playfully flipped her hair and sat beside Rowan on the bed. “Please, tell me all about that.”

Rowan chuckled and wrapped a towel around her shoulders so the shirt wouldn’t get damp by her hair, caressing it on his way.

“I didn’t know a lot when I was a kid, Aelin, but I knew you’re the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. That didn’t change over time.”

“Really?” Aelin felt like her whole body was melting, and Rowan’s pining gaze was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Fireheart,” he whispered her name like it was his only possible answer and caressed her hair until his thumb reached her cheek.

She let out a short, soft chuckle. “Buzzard.”

Aelin hadn’t called him that in years, and the way his eyes lit up told her he noticed that too.

His shaky thumb brushed her bottom lip in one careful motion. “Is this okay?”

Aelin’s nod was almost imperceptible, but it was enough for him to tug her closer and meet her halfway, closing their distance.

Their kiss wasn’t each other’s first like they had planned, but right now it felt like the only one that mattered. Rowan’s lips felt so soft to the touch as they made their way between hers, and she felt her insides fluttering as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

But then it mixed with a tight feeling in the back of her throat as Rowan flicked his tongue against hers, and Aelin couldn’t stop wondering if this kiss would even happen if she hadn’t schemed and manipulated her way into it. Her body got more stiff each time he caressed her.

Aelin broke the kiss and lowered her gaze, not looking him in the eye.

“There was more than one room available. I lied to you.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Okay.”

Rowan trailed kisses down her neck, but Aelin still felt her chest tight.

She added some distance between them. “You don’t understand. I could’ve booked two rooms, but I didn’t. Just like I forgot my lipstick in your car on purpose.”

“Aelin…” Rowan sat back on the bed to talk. His hand grasped hers, and his eyes had nothing but amusement as he looked deep into hers. “I knew it wasn’t the last room because other people checked in after us. And leaving things in my car is the oldest trick in the book.”

Aelin opened her mouth to retort, but he beat her to it. “I also saw you’re not in the official list of students at Dr. Lochan’s class.” He squeezed her hand, biting his lip as an attempt to not laugh. “And I’m a psychologist, Aelin, of course I’d notice you were conditioning me to text you at the same time every day.”

She stepped back, mouth falling open. “You knew it the entire time?”

Rowan nodded, still clamping his lips together as if this was the funniest thing. For Mala’s sake, Aelin thought she was being so smooth.

She gave him a tentative, awkward grin. “And you’re not mad?”

“No.” His mouth opened into a smirk. “Actually, I thought it was a little endearing.” Tugging her closer, he continued in a soft tone, “You didn’t have to do all that, though.”

When Rowan kissed her again, it felt right. He gripped the back of her hair with one hand and her waist with the other, but her whole body tingled and shivered as he held her. Aelin fully melted into his touch this time, feeling all the butterflies in her stomach as they explored each other in a bruising kiss.

He rested their foreheads together, breathless as she’d never seen him. “But if you want to make up for lying to me, we could get back together.”

“Alright.” She chuckled and pecked him, but he took advantage and bit her bottom lip. “I thought you’d want to start casual.”

“I don’t know, Aelin.” Rowan tilted his head sideways and frowned, pretending to look thoughtful. “I *did* tell my entire family, when I was eight, that you’re my future wife. Agreeing to be casual would be a huge setback.”

“Okay,” Aelin chirped, adjusting herself in his lap. “So you’re telling me my master mind and scheming abilities brought us together?”

He snorted. “I was ready to woo you, but I guess chivalry is really dead.”

Something struck Rowan, making him disentangle himself from her. He paused, analyzing his still wet shirt, but wore it anyway. “Wait here.”

Aelin frowned at the ajar door he had just left open. What the fuck had just happened? Did Rowan really leave right after they got back together?

It was a matter of seconds before he returned, though. Aelin felt the fuzziest feeling as her face morphed into a beam.

He had one single kingsflower in his hand, which had definitely been stolen from the lobby.

“I wish I was an octopus, that way I could give you seven flowers.”

Aelin cracked a surprised laughter, her pulse fast. “You mean eight.”

Rowan shook his head, grinning as well. “I‘d still need one to hold your hand.”

LATER THAT WEEK

“Are you going to tell me why I had to deny your own daughter’s application?”

Holding his glass, Rhoe pointed to the very expensive bottle of whiskey he gave Murtaugh, which they were sipping right now in his living room. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

His friend smirked. “Bullshit.”

Rhoe smiled at his glass. This wasn’t the easiest thing to confess, but he regretted nothing.

“I hate it when people say love works by faith alone. Do you know how hard it was for an average guy like me to pull Evalin?”

Murtaugh’s mouth was ajar as he processed this. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Sometimes people need a little push. Especially couples.”

His friend’s eyes widened. “Your daughter and that boy. You were playing cupid, weren’t you?”

“Not cupid, no. That’s too manipulative.” Rhoe twirled his glass, smirking and thinking of a poetic way to put it. “I’m the wind in their free-flowing sails.”

He was used to making little things like putting his students to do assignments together on purpose when he thought they were a good match, but this one was personal.

Rhoe still remembered years ago, when his family moved to the big city because of his job, and he had to witness his little girl crying because she had just been separated from her so-called boyfriend.

A decade and a half later, the memory still broke his heart. The moment Rhoe saw Rowan at the psychology building, he knew this was his chance to fix what he broke.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Rhoe shrugged. “This is the first time I felt the need to confess.”

Murtaugh chuckled and sipped more whiskey. “How long have you been scheming like a criminal?”

“Not like that!” Rhoe protested in mock offense.

“Okay, I already know what you’re going to say.” Murtaugh waved him off and raised an eyebrow, as if daring Rhoe to disagree. “You’re only cryptic and machiavellian because you care.”

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